


Norns, Save Us (From Ourselves)

by phlintandsteel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha James Barnes, Alpha/Omega, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bonding, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating, Not Steve Friendly, Omega Tony Stark, Omegaverse, Peter & Harley play matchmaker, Soulmates, Team Iron Man, because you don’t get over 70 years of torture with a couple years of farming, post infinity war au, still recovering James Barnes, the Service determines compatibility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-12 00:58:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17457575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phlintandsteel/pseuds/phlintandsteel
Summary: It’s been ten years since half the universe was dusted.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, the only way the MCU can salvage Steve’s character at this point is to make him have been a fucking skrull for the last 3 movies, jfc. That being said, I didn’t make him “evil” in this fic, just stubborn and unrepentant, just like in MCU canon :)
> 
> Also, because of the way Tony and Bucky "meet" here, there are some "chat fic" type areas, but this is NOT a chat fic, all the rest of the story is written in a regular format ;D

It’s been ten years since half the universe was dusted.  

 

Sure, the Avengers had come back together when they were needed most, too grief stricken and traumatized by their  _ loss  _ to bother revisiting old wounds.  But that doesn’t mean those wounds ever got a chance to heal properly.  Like a broken bone that was never set before it healed, they were functional, could get the job done, but the stress was evident.

 

They did their thing, they pushed through and  _ avenged _ , with the help of a couple new old players.  Tony was able to turn back just enough time to make sure Thanos would never see Captain Marvel coming.  They rescued everyone trapped inside the soul gem, creating an entire universe of beings that gave earth their gratitude.  

 

But the Avengers would never be a team again like they had been before, eternal gratitude of the universe or not.  

 

There were tearful reunions all around, back then.  Tony refuses to be embarrassed by the way he scented Peter like an errant pup returned from a near miss on the freeway, half scolding, half shaking in relief.  

 

Tony tries to hold on to the memory of that moment to keep from lashing out in irritation at Peter now.  

 

“-and even though he’s, like, Wade’s friend, he’s not like  _ friends  _ friends with him, Tony, he’s actually a pretty normal guy, uh, if you look past the adamantium claws…” Peter says, scratching his chin.  

 

“Absolutely not,” Tony says a little more firmly this time.  

 

Rhodey raises an eyebrow at his tone of voice.

 

Peter sighs, just looking at him for a moment.  “I know it’s not technically my place, but, I just thought…  Well, you seem lonelier than usual, lately, and what’s the harm in one date?”

 

“The harm?  You think I helped petition for the X-Men to have special provisions within the Acords for three years and I  _ wouldn’t  _ know who Logan Howlett is?” Tony scoffs in disbelief.

 

“No?...  I mean, I’d assumed you might have met in passing?  But you’ve never said anything outright awful about him, so I figured he hadn’t come off as, you know, one of  _ those kinds _ of alphas when you’d met…” Peter keeps pushing, subtly distracting Tony by putting extra green beans on his plate.  

 

“I’ve never gotten close enough to be formally introduced, mostly because the man reeks of cigar smoke so badly you can smell it from a mile off,” Tony informs him, giving Peter a look that says he will not be deterred from the point by an extra serving of veggies.  

 

“I’m sure he’ll shower!” Peter responds.

 

“Even so, Pete, _ friends with Wade _ , I can’t just let something like that go,” Tony says, getting back to the core issue, “I’m not going out with him, and that’s final.”

 

When he started letting the Spiderling meddle in his love life, Tony has no idea.  

 

He’s wary for the next few days, making sure he doesn’t end up roped into some stupid romcom meetcute by grown men in tights…  But surprisingly, Peter seems to respect his wishes, and Tony doesn’t find himself accidentally bumping into Logan at any coffee shops or supermarkets.  

 

Not that he’s personally set foot in a supermarket since around 2022, but that’s the kind of thing you always see happening in the movies.  Oh, meet me for coffee at the new cafe on 3rd, Tony, pick up some candles for Aunt May’s cake on your way over, Tony. That sort of thing. And then BAM!  Scruffy looking bad boys just  _ happen  _ to be walking down the aisle and are tall enough to get something off the top shelf for you…   Not that Tony has ever put a lot of thought into those types of scenarios. 

 

<//>

 

“Ok, I get why the Logan thing didn’t go over so well,” Peter says, watching as the man in question very obviously pines from a distance over an already mated team member.  They’re just starting clean up after a joint Avengers and X-men mission when Peter notices it. 

 

“Honestly, I don’t even mind being a ‘distraction’ if all parties are upfront about it,” Tony tells him, “But he’s _ friends with Wade _ ,” Tony reiterates, sticking to his guns.  

 

“So am I!” Peter tells him, the grin palpable in his voice even though Tony can’t see his face through the mask.  

 

“ _ You _ are the one stable influence in his life, you’re an anomaly, an outlier, a statistical oddity, you don’t count.”

 

Peter rolls his eyes, which isn’t too becoming for a 26 year old, but he probably figures he can get away with it because of his eyes not being ‘visible’.  

 

Tony still knows though, Tony still knows.  

 

<//>

 

“Don’t be mad,” Peter prefaces the conversation with as soon as Tony walks into the room.  

 

Instantly on alert, Tony locks his tablet and gives his surroundings his full attention. 

 

“Uh, mad about what?  You didn’t break my particle accelerator again, did you?” Tony frowns.  

 

“No, nothing like that,” Peter is quick to defend himself.  

 

“Did you eat my leftovers from Giovanni’s?  I swear to god, I will cut you out of my will if my gnocchi goes missing one more time,” Tony says sternly, obviously joking.  Happy snorts, but he doesn’t look up from the magazine he’s reading.

 

“Sweet, I’ll get all the cars to myself then,” Harley interjects, never missing a beat on the video game he’s playing.

 

“I didn’t eat the gocchi!” Peter says defensively, throwing his hand up to imply innocence.  He does seem a little too stiff, his posture a little too hesitant for it to be  _ nothing  _ though…  Tony raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to come clean.

 

“Ok, so, I just thought, maybe you’d be more comfortable going out with someone if you knew they were a good match for you, so, I did a little digging around on the Service’s website, and you already had a profile there, I mean, everyone has a profile there, but I maybe kind of reactivated yours?...  Why was it off anyway?” Peter tells him sheepishly, but then follows it up with  _ that  _ question...

 

Tony’s spine goes rigid.  

 

Happy puts his magazine down.  

 

Tony takes a deep breath, waving him off for now.  He takes a second to compose himself, because Peter may be well into adulthood, but he’s still so young in certain ways.  Tony doesn’t want to overreact, not like Howard would have, but he’s still so upset that it starts to be apparent in his scent almost immediately.  

 

“Peter, you had no right to do that,” Tony tells him, his voice as even as he can make it.  

 

Peter instantly looks abashed in the face of Tony’s reaction.  

 

“I didn’t think it would hurt anything…  I’m sorry… I just… You’ve been getting more and more withdrawn lately, and-”

 

“You smell all lonely and shit,” Harley pipes up.  “I helped him reactivate it, we really didn’t think you’d be  _ upset  _ upset.  We just thought, you know, it would do you good to get, like,  _ cuddled  _ or something.”

 

Tony breathes in, breathes out, tries to remember that they’re just trying to  _ help  _ him.  “It’s not-  I’m not any more  _ lonely  _ than I ever am,” Tony sighs, “I’m going through menopause, ok?  My hormones are readjusting, that’s all, that’s what you’re smelling, my scent’s just changing in general,” Tony admits, comfortable enough with his family to let a little bit of his embarrassment at the situation peek through.  

 

“Oh…  But, why unlist yourself from the Service?  There are plenty of alphas on the older end out there…” Peter asks, uncomprehending.  

 

“You know what?  It’s past your boys’ bedtimes,” Happy speaks up, getting off the couch and making a motion to herd them toward the door.

 

“What?  No!”

 

“I haven’t had a bedtime since before I got my bachelor’s degree,” Harley scowls, looking between Happy and Tony.

 

“No, Hap.  It’s fine, alright?” Tony appreciates him being willing to jump in like that, he really does, but if Peter is really  _ this  _ insistent about finding him someone, he needs to understand one of the major reasons Tony’s been single for most of his life.  “It’s not a matter of finding alphas  _ my own age _ , thank you very much, Peter,” Tony gives him the stink eye for that comment, “It’s a matter of there not being any alphas compatible with me at all.”

 

Peter blinks at him.  

 

Harley looks incredulous, but more shamefaced at their actions now than at any point leading up to this in the conversation.  

 

“I’ve been in the Service’s system since before it was even computerized.  I know, I know,  _ paper files _ , don’t think too hard about it,” Tony shivers in revulsion, “That was back when it was just an extreme personality profile, it didn’t even take chemical makeup into its analysis.  Hell, they didn’t even offer the anonymous feature, back then. But I’ve never had a single match, not one, under either system, in the twenty some odd years my profile  _ was  _ active.  I finally just took it down after I became Ironman.  I’m not kidding when I brag about being a one-of-a-kind omega.  There just isn’t anyone compatible enough with me to hit their threshold,” Tony explains, the old, dull stinging sensation that usually accompanies such thoughts springing back to life in his chest.  

 

It’s been years though.

 

Decades, really.

 

He’s over it, by now.  He’s moved on. There’s literally no way he should have any pain in his general chest area at all, after extremis.

 

“Uh, Tony?...” Peter says, looking hesitant, “It, uh…  It did give you a match? I was keeping tabs on it, just to see, and...” he holds the tablet he has in his own hands out to Tony.

 

Peter and Harley share an expectant look.  

 

Happy just blinks, shocked.

 

“It’s probably just a mistake, or, a mix up.  A fluke,” Tony says immediately, his instincts telling him to squash down any potential hope before it takes root.  He can’t take his eyes off the device Peter’s holding out for him though. 

 

“Do you want me to look at it for you?” Peter asks.

 

“Uh,” Tony says eloquently, his mind racing.  

 

Peter shares another look with Harley, but this one is harder to read.  

 

Happy takes the tablet out of Peter’s hands.  

 

“Hey!”

 

“Quiet,” he says with authority, flicking through the account on the screen slightly clumsily but with determined concentration.  “Well, at least they set you up as an anonymous profile… 

 

“We’re not stupid, you’re still  _ Tony Stark _ ,” Harley says, crossing his arms, “Not going anonymous would just invite all kinds of trouble.”

 

“The match is an anonymous one too,” Happy says, barely even acknowledging Harley, “It just says male, alpha, and-  He’s from Wakanda,” he adds, looking up at Tony hesitantly. 

 

“Wakanda just finally joined the Service’s data banks last month,” Peter says excitedly, “Tony!  That’s why you were never matched with him before!” 

 

Tony feels like he probably looks a little pale.  

 

“I…  Let me see it,” he says, reaching out.  

 

Happy obliges right away.  As soon as he’s handed it over though, Peter and Harley take that as permission to crowd close, looking at the screen with Tony.  

 

“There’s no picture,” Harley crinkles his nose.

 

“Irrelevant,” Tony says, scanning through the listed interests and hobbies.  “His favorite animal is ‘currently anything but goats’? What even?... Oh, he likes cheeseburgers and learning new things.  Who honestly puts down that they like  _ learning _ ?” Tony says, feeling lightheaded.  

 

The physical match is in the 80th percentile.  

 

“Jesus.  People get married and mated all the time at just 50%, 80% is like, soulmate level shit,” Harley whistles.

 

“Soulmates are only 100%,” Tony automatically corrects, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen yet.

 

“Effective soulmates, that’s what they call it.  What? The average person never gets an actual 100%, that’s like, unheard of.  Most people these days consider anything above 75% to be match made in heaven territory,” Peter nods authoritatively.  

 

“You uh, got any 75%’s on your profile?” Happy asks Peter, like a prying grandparent.  

 

“...Maybe a couple…  But we’re talking about Tony, here!” Peter deflects right away, “You should message this guy, we set it so that you had to approve any matches before it notified the other party.”  

 

“Bad idea, Boss,” Happy says, shaking his head, “You’ve got a flight to Winnipeg in an hour and a half.”

 

Peter and Harley look betrayed at his common sense suggestion.  Happy’s used to being the level headed one though. 

 

“Happy’s right, as usual,” Tony gives him a nod as he pulls himself together, “This will have to wait.  FRIDAY? Put this on my personal tablet,” he instructs.

 

“Of course, Boss,” she answers.

 

“Yeah, you should think about what you want to say first anyway,” Harley says, like it was his idea.  

 

Tony hands Peter’s tablet back to him, still too shocked by the prospect of  _ having a match _ to be his normal talkative self.  

 

Later, on the plane, Tony reads and rereads the alpha’s profile, even though he’s already committed it to memory.  It’s a silly action, caring to absorb details on this perfect stranger...but Tony can’t quite stop himself. It’s his  _ match _ .  

 

He has a match.

 

Even Steve never-  No, don’t think about that.  

 

Tony had very, very briefly reactivated his profile, for just a few days, many years ago when he and Steve had started dating.  But when it still failed to return anything after Cap had been uploaded into the “new” system, he’d quietly deactivated it again, never speaking about it since.  

 

So in a way he’d always known, that things would end with Steve, if not the how.

 

Cassandra herself couldn’t have predicted the how…

 

But now, right here in front of him, years past the point of retaining any hope, Tony has a match.  A match from Wakanda, the country that had been isolated for hundreds of years and only recently joined the world stage.  Wakanda, the technological powerhouse... Anyone from there who saw that they’d been matched with  _ Tony Stark _ would probably be hesitant about his motives in contacting them…  At least, Tony would be if it was Justin Hammer messaging  _ him  _ out of the blue and saying they were a match...

 

Ew, Tony did  _ not  _ just accidentally compare himself to Justin Hammer…  

 

“Fuck, what am I going to do?” Tony mutters aloud, rubbing at his face.  

 

There’s no answer.

 

The tablet screen glares brightly at him.  

 

Tony puts it to sleep and turns to stare out the window.  Winnipeg is in the distance, but it’s Wakanda that’s on his mind.  

 

<//>  

 

WARMACHINEROX:  Hi

 

WARMACHINEROX:  I just got a notice that we’re a match, so, I guess if that’s something you’re interested in pursuing, let me know?

  
  


Tony feels instantly stupid at the word choice he’d used, but it’s too late to change things now, he’s already hit send.   _ Pursue _ ?  Really?  Was he trying to come off as some needy, desperate omega?  And why had he broken it up into two separate messages? Annoying.  It was annoying and needy and-

  
  


BillyGoatGruff:  Hi 

  
  


Oh my god, he messaged back right away.  That… That was not supposed to happen. Tony was supposed to get left on read for a day or two and then politely informed that the alpha was seeing someone else already.  He had this whole scenario built up in his mind to cushion the inevitable let-down, and now it just got blown out of the water.

  
  


WARMACHINEROX:   _ That’s _ your username?  Your profile says you hate goats.

  
  


Tony found himself typing back before the alpha could even get out a full sentence.  Oh god, he was horrible at this. 

  
  


BillyGoatGruff:  Eh, the goats aren’t really so bad, I was just annoyed that day.

 

WARMACHINEROX:  By a specific goat, or just their general existence?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  lol

 

BillyGoatGruff:  Both, I guess.

 

BillyGoatGruff:  What about you? Are you pro goat?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  Uh, not that I’m obsessed with goats or anything

 

BillyGoatGruff:  Didn’t realize that sounded kind of weird until I’d already typed it…

  
  


Oh.  The alpha was nervous too…

  
  


WARMACHINEROX:  I guess pro goat?  I mean, I like feta, so I guess that’s pro?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  It’s ok, as long as your next question isn’t goat related, then it’s totally not weird (yet)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  Thanks :)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  Your profile’s pretty sparse, so I guess a couple questions are in order

  
  


Tony sucks in a nervous breath, hoping it  _ doesn’t  _ get weird.  

  
  


BillyGoatGruff:  Pro pineapple on pizza?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  lol

 

WARMACHINEROX:  fuck no

 

WARMACHINEROX:  and that’s a deal breaker, sorry, i don’t date heathens

 

BillyGoatGruff:  good answer :)

 

WARMACHINEROX:  well you’re obviously not pulling your punches, so i felt the need to be honest

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i never pull my punches

 

BillyGoatGruff:  pro professional wrestling?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  considering the entire thing is a con?  

 

WARMACHINEROX:  no

 

BillyGoatGruff:  hmm… Pro opera?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  only if it’s in a language i speak :/

 

BillyGoatGruff:  do you speak many?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  five fluently, eight well enough to get by

 

BillyGoatGruff:  wow, that’s impressive

 

WARMACHINEROX:  pro omegas being impressive?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  of course

 

WARMACHINEROX:  but like, even if they’re more impressive than their alpha?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  most of the omegas i’ve known have all been way more impressive than their alphas, if they bothered with one

 

BillyGoatGruff:  so yeah, definitely

 

BillyGoatGruff:  pro technological advancement?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  definitely :)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  cool

 

BillyGoatGruff:  that’s good

 

BillyGoatGruff:  your profile says you’re in your late 50’s, and i know some of us old folks can be a bit tech shy…

 

WARMACHINEROX:  not me

 

WARMACHINEROX:  :)

 

WARMACHINEROX:  pro Acords?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i know that can be a touchy subject, in Wakanda

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i think we need them

 

BillyGoatGruff:  a world without laws is chaos, we’d be back to living like cavemen without them, just following, obeying whoever was strong enough to  _ make  _ us

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i don’t want to live in a world like that

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i want to have the right to choose

 

WARMACHINEROX:  we always have the right to choose,  _ always _

 

WARMACHINEROX:  it’s getting people “stronger” than you to respect your wishes that can be the difficult part :(

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ain’t that the truth

 

WARMACHINEROX:  wow, so politics and religion in the first conversation…  should we talk about “what we want from the future” and get all three big ones out of the way right off?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  did we talk about religion?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i told you, i don’t date heathens

 

BillyGoatGruff:  lol

 

BillyGoatGruff:  that’s right

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’ll be honest

 

BillyGoatGruff:  what i want from the future is to not be so god awful lonely anymore

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’m not looking for a one night stand

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i mean, obviously i can’t promise you forever or anything, we just met, but i want something stable, you know?  

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i do know

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’m just tired of drama and finding out we’re not compatible on a fundamental level after already getting to know someone.

 

BillyGoatGruff:  we didn’t have this Service thing when i was growing up.

 

BillyGoatGruff:  so i thought i’d give it a try now

 

WARMACHINEROX:  and was i just the first to message you out of all your matches?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i don’t have any other matches, just you

 

BillyGoatGruff:  :)

 

WARMACHINEROX:  :)

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

 

“Hey, are you doing alright?” Pepper asks him a few days later.

 

“What?  Yeah? I’m doing pretty good…” Tony raises a quizzical eyebrow at her.

 

“It’s just, you look happy…  Like you got laid or something.  And the last time you indulged in one night stands, you were drinking pretty heavily…” Pepper lays out her logic for him.  

 

“So, because I look happy, you automatically assume that my life must be back on a downward spiral,” Tony says a little incredulously, even though he knows her reasoning is actually pretty spot on.

 

“It sounds weird when you say it that way, but when have you ever been normal, Tony?” Pepper gives him a fond smile to let him know she’s not really  _ worried _ , more like just checking in.

 

“Not a day in my life, thank god,” Tony says flippantly.

 

Pepper takes his hand in both of hers, a gesture that’s become familiar and  _ friendly  _ again in their long years since breaking up.  “Are you really doing alright?” she asks, earnest and sincere.  

 

Tony is not about to admit to walking around smiling abnormally because  _ a boy is talking to him _ .  No.  Just, no.  He’s not ready for that yet.  

 

“I’m great, seriously Pep.  If I seem happier than normal, it’s just because Rogers had to agree to take a demotion in order to work on the same team with Barnes again,” Tony supplies quickly.

 

The Avengers are not the only super powered team in the world, not by a long shot.  Now that the amended Acords have been in force long enough to prove they work, even more people with special powers have been coming out of the woodwork.  The U.S. currently has five teams and there are dozens of others around the world. 

 

When the world was regrouping after Thanos, Barnes had gone off to be a  _ reserve  _ member of some international composite team, despite Rogers’ insistence that it would be fine if he joined a U.S. one.  Thankfully, Tony hasn’t had to so much as stand in the same room as any of the Rogues since they fought Thanos. FRIDAY keeps an index for him, of the likelihood of running into any of them at a given event.  If the number is higher than 10%, he politely declines, or becomes ill if it’s something he’d already agreed to. 

 

“He should never have been leading his own team anyway, after what he pulled,” Pepper mutters.

 

“And now he’s not anymore,” Tony grins, “See?  Good things come to those who wait.”

 

“I just wish the government had been a little more willing to listen to the people on that one, and not so nostalgic for their old poster boy…” Pepper sighs.

 

“What’s done is done,” Tony says, squeezing her hand, “Let’s not talk about Captain Asshat anymore.  He’s going to be far away from here, on another whole coast now, so really, we should be celebrating.  I won’t even have to politely nod at him across the battlefield when there’s a big enough baddie to call in multiple teams anymore.”

 

“That  _ will  _ be a huge improvement,” Pepper nods.  

 

“Exactly.  Doesn’t it make you want to smile, knowing he’ll be 3,500 miles away soon?”

 

Pepper chuckles.  

 

Tony’s phone buzzes in his pocket with a notification as he grins.

 

<//>

 

BillyGoatGruff:  favorite tv show?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  which genre?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  out of all of them

 

WARMACHINEROX:  Star Trek

 

WARMACHINEROX:  the original

 

WARMACHINEROX:  tho

 

WARMACHINEROX:  next generation is alright too

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’ll have to watch it sometime then

 

WARMACHINEROX:  do they have netflix in wakanda?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  probably

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’ve never been one for sitting around watching tv much

 

WARMACHINEROX:  too busy herding goats?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  :P

 

BillyGoatGruff:  hey, goat farming is a perfectly respectable profession

 

WARMACHINEROX:  oh shit, are you really a goat farmer???

 

BillyGoatGruff:  nah

 

BillyGoatGruff:  it’s not my farm, i just work here

 

BillyGoatGruff:  but i’m actually moving to the states soon, so i won’t even be a hired goat hand at that point

 

WARMACHINEROX:  really>

 

WARMACHINEROX:  ?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  what part of the US?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  california

 

BillyGoatGruff:  a friend of mine hooked me up with a new job there

 

BillyGoatGruff:  mine here is ending

 

BillyGoatGruff:  it’s kind of complicated

 

WARMACHINEROX:  no problem

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i didn’t mean to pry

 

WARMACHINEROX:  we’ve only been talking for a week, it’s not like i think you’re moving to the US to be closer to me or anything

 

WARMACHINEROX:  aaaaand, i probably shouldn’t have  _ gone there _ , sorry…

 

BillyGoatGruff:  nah, it;s ok

 

BillyGoatGruff:  this move has been in the works for like a year

 

BillyGoatGruff:  so don’t worry, i’m not about to start stalking you or anything

 

WARMACHINEROX:  comforting

 

WARMACHINEROX:  you don’t really give off stalker-y vibes anyway, so i wasn’t worried

 

BillyGoatGruff:  good :)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  oh, i was going to ask you

 

BillyGoatGruff:  very important question

 

BillyGoatGruff:  to see if we’re really as compatible as this Service thing says we are 

 

WARMACHINEROX:  go for it

 

BillyGoatGruff:  who’s your favorite superhero?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  …

 

WARMACHINEROX:  that better be a joke

 

BillyGoatGruff:  roflmao

 

WARMACHINEROX:  what part of WAR MACHINE ROX do you not understand?!?!?!?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  oh, you mean it’s not “warm ach in ‘e rox”? 

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i thought you were scottish or something…

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ;)

 

WARMACHINEROX:  you’re a troll

 

WARMACHINEROX:  omg

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i can’t believe i got matched up with A TROLL

 

BillyGoatGruff:  lol

 

BillyGoatGruff:  you know i’m kidding

 

BillyGoatGruff:  war machine is pretty awesome, i have to admit

 

WARMACHINEROX:  good

 

WARMACHINEROX:  you better

 

WARMACHINEROX:  you saved that one by the skin of your teeth, mister

 

WARMACHINEROX:  so who’s YOUR favorite superhero?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  oh, that’s easy

 

BillyGoatGruff:  deadpool

 

BillyGoatGruff:  jk

 

WARMACHINEROX:  BLOCKED

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ???

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i will block you, don’t think i won’t

 

WARMACHINEROX:  be glad i saw your “jk” in time

 

WARMACHINEROX:  the potential for future cuddles is far outweighed by the GIANT RED FLAG that is an admiration of deadpool

 

BillyGoatGruff:  touchy subject?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i really was just kidding, btw…

 

BillyGoatGruff:  my actual favorite is Okoye

 

WARMACHINEROX:  not the Black Panther?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  he’s cool

 

BillyGoatGruff:  he’s a good person, but he’s not as kickass as Okoye

 

WARMACHINEROX:  you ever meet her irl?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  a couple times, actually

 

BillyGoatGruff:  it’s her husband’s farm i work on

 

BillyGoatGruff:  she’s the first person who comes to mind when you mention impressive omegas, for me

 

BillyGoatGruff:  you ever met war machine?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i have actually

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i used to contract with the govt, many years ago

 

WARMACHINEROX:  he’s very down to earth

 

WARMACHINEROX:  a real humble hero

 

BillyGoatGruff:  cool

 

BillyGoatGruff:  that’s what i’ve heard, glad to know it’s true

 

WARMACHINEROX:  the world could certainly benefit from a few more humble heroes

 

BillyGoatGruff:  too true

  
  


<//>

  
  


“Oh my god, are you texting him?  The alpha the Service matched you with?” Peter asks, enthusiasm pouring off of him as he sees Tony tapping away at his phone with a smile on his face.

 

“What?” Pepper virtually shouts in her surprise.  “You got matched? After all these years? And you didn’t  _ say  _ anything?”

 

“Uh, I was going to?...” Tony says defensively, putting his phone away quickly.  

 

“Oh my god, Tony.   _ Oh my god _ ,” Pepper keeps saying, dumbfounded.

 

“What’s his name, man?  Where’s he from?” Rhodey asks, playing it much cooler than Pepper.  

 

“He’s from Wakanda,” Peter helpfully supplies before Tony can get his mouth open.

 

Rhodey whistles, “Wakanda?  No wonder you were never matched before.”

 

“Yeah, but he’s actually moving to the US soon.  Got a job in California, probably the expansion of Wakanda’s embassy in Oakland,” Tony tells them.

 

“Really?  Are you serious?  That means you could meet him!” Peter is practically vibrating on the balls of his feet.

 

“It’s only been a couple weeks, kid, we’re not-  I’m not ready for that, yet,” Tony says, shaking his head.

 

“But he’s nice, right?  You were smiling, so he must be nice,” Peter asks.

 

“Yeah, he seems nice enough,” Tony admits, which is actually a huge give away, for him.  Pepper and Rhodey exchange a knowing look while Peter jumps in the air. 

 

“I knew it!  Aren’t you glad Harley and I turned your profile back on for you?” 

 

“You and Harley did what?” Pepper frowns.  

 

“Oh, uh, nothing, nothing, we were just trying to help Tony-” Peter gulps as Pepper turns her full attention on him, “You know what, I think I hear Aunt May calling me…  I should probably get back to Queens now, bye!”

 

After Peter has flung himself out the door as if rabid wolves were chasing him, quiet descends over the room again.

 

“So, you never did mention his name…  It’s not T’Challa, is it?” Rhodey asks.

 

“What?  No, of course not.  He’s married,” Tony frowns.  “His name is James, actually.  I mean, obviously I don’t  _ call  _ him that.  It’s usually Jimmie or Jim Bob or Jimboree, you know,” Tony shrugs.  

 

Rhodey nods, looking at Tony intently.

 

“You realize James isn’t a Wakandan name, right?” Rhodey points out.  

 

“I’m aware.”

 

Rhodey lifts an eyebrow.

 

“Look, we’re just getting to know each other, and if I start giving him the third degree on what his real name is, on his background, etc., then he’ll start giving  _ me  _ the third degree, and then this will be over before it has a chance to go  _ anywhere _ .”  

 

“Oh, Tones…”

 

“Just drop it, Sour Patch, alright?  We were both set to anonymous profiles.  If he’s really that much of a match for me, he’ll understand why I didn’t tell him I was  _ Tony Stark  _ right away,” Tony argues.  

 

“How much of a match is this guy?”

 

“80%.”

 

“Jeez…  Go big or go home, I guess,” Rhodey still doesn’t look convinced, though.  

 

“I  _ will  _ tell him, you know I will.  I do want to meet him eventually, so him knowing is kind of a requirement for that.  Unless I wear a bag over my head for the rest of my life, which, that would be a crime against humanity, to deprive the public like that, so no can do, that’s not a viable option,” Tony says with a practiced nonchalance.

 

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” Rhodey asks.

 

“I’m Ironman, Rhodey, I can protect myself.  I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with  _ you _ ,” Tony frowns.  

 

“No, man, I know you can kick any alpha’s ass any day of the week,” Rhodey scoffs, “I meant be careful with your heart, Tones, you know you have a habit of falling fast for people, even if they don’t deserve it…”

 

“I’ll be careful.”

 

<//>

 

BillyGoatGruff:  sorry, edward, i shouldn’t have messaged you this late, i figured you’d just read it in the morning

 

WARMACHINEROX:  it’s no problem, i was still up

 

WARMACHINEROX:  what’s up?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  just adjusting to the new time zone

 

BillyGoatGruff:  and sometimes i get nightmares

 

WARMACHINEROX:  yeah, i know what that’s like

 

WARMACHINEROX:  the time zones, and the nightmares

 

BillyGoatGruff:  from the war?...

 

WARMACHINEROX:  yeah, mostly

 

WARMACHINEROX:  did you get dusted, or where you a cliche christian propaganda piece?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  dusted

 

WARMACHINEROX:  that sucks

 

WARMACHINEROX:  :(

 

BillyGoatGruff:  did you get dusted?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  no, left behind

 

BillyGoatGruff:  that sucks

 

WARMACHINEROX:  yeah

  
  


<//>

  
  


Three months in, Tony can admit to himself that he lied to Rhodey.  He has not been careful. He’s let every joke, every shared like, and every philosophical conversation worm its way under his skin.  

 

James is nice.

 

Who is he kidding...James is so far beyond  _ nice  _ that “nice” isn’t even visible in the rearview mirror anymore.  James is kind, and apologizes when he’s wrong, and is just a liberal as Tony, if not  _ more so _ in some areas…  He’s got a sense of humor that compliments Tony’s perfectly.  He’s smart and he actually tries the things Tony recommends to him.

 

They vented to each other for an hour about the  _ obvious  _ Spock / Kirk sexual tension in the show after James watched Star Trek.  

 

James is  _ perfect _ .

 

James is perfect, and Tony is in…  Well, let’s just call it denial for now.  

 

<//>  

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i hope that wasn’t too forward?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  do you mind?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  if i call you sugar?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  no

 

BillyGoatGruff:  :)

 

WARMACHINEROX:  this is not happening

 

BillyGoatGruff:  oh 

 

BillyGoatGruff:  sorry

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i mean, i didn’t mean to push, eddie

 

WARMACHINEROX:  we are not sexting when we’ve never even met

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i don’t even know what you smell like

 

BillyGoatGruff:  would you want to?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  meet?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  yes

 

BillyGoatGruff:  great :)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  that’s great

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’d really like to, too

 

WARMACHINEROX:  just

 

WARMACHINEROX:  jamie, i’m assuming both of us went anonymous to start for *reasons*

 

WARMACHINEROX:  and i really don’t want to get into everything online, it’s more of a face to face conversation anyway

 

WARMACHINEROX:  so yes, i’d like to meet and share tragic backstories

 

WARMACHINEROX:  if you want to

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i want to

 

BillyGoatGruff:  and you’re right, about the anonymous thing

 

BillyGoatGruff:  but i think you’re worth the chance

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i think you are too

 

BillyGoatGruff:  do you want me to come to new york, or maybe we could meet halfway?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i’ll be in malibu this weekend

 

WARMACHINEROX:  oh, halfway is good

 

WARMACHINEROX:  neutral territory

 

BillyGoatGruff:  yeah, that sounds good

 

BillyGoatGruff:  do

 

BillyGoatGruff:  do you come out to california often?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  a couple times a year

 

BillyGoatGruff:  cool

 

WARMACHINEROX:  yeah, i do love the beach

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i like it too

 

BillyGoatGruff:  it’s calming

 

WARMACHINEROX:  tulsa

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  OK

 

BillyGoatGruff:  um, sure?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  what am i agreeing to?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  no, i looked it up

 

WARMACHINEROX:  tulsa, oklahoma is almost exactly halfway between the east and west coast

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ohhhhhh

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i thought maybe you had misspelled Tesla again

 

WARMACHINEROX:  sacrilege!

 

BillyGoatGruff:  :P

  
  


<//>

 

Oh god, he agreed to  _ meet  _ him.

 

<//>  

  
  


BillyGoatGruff:  should we have a code?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  my coworker said we need a code

 

BillyGoatGruff:  like, to know who each other are at the airport

 

WARMACHINEROX:  WHY WOULD YOU JINX US LIKE THAT

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ???

 

WARMACHINEROX:  have you never seen a single romantic comedy in your entire life?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  uh, not really?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  omg

 

WARMACHINEROX:  if we set up a code, then inevitably we’ll turn out to be arch enemies or business rivals or from opposing families in some long standing feud, and one of us will see the other with the code item, bail on the situation, and then leave the other heartbroken not knowing why they were stood up

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i mean, the happy ending is still possible, in the movies anyway, but why would we subject ourselves to all that angst for no reason?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’m pretty sure i don’t have an arch enemy

 

BillyGoatGruff:  but my coworker  _ is  _ an asshole, so he might have suggested it on purpose...

 

WARMACHINEROX:  only  _ pretty sure _ ?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i could still be the guy your ex dumped you for in high school

 

WARMACHINEROX:  or the guy who sold you his car and it turned out to be a lemon

 

BillyGoatGruff:  those are both oddly specific and nowhere near possible

 

WARMACHINEROX:  ok, i may be grasping a little

 

BillyGoatGruff:  we could do the rose thing

 

WARMACHINEROX:  we could both wear t-shirts that say “i’m with stupid” on them too

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i could hold up a big sign that says “WARMACHINEROX” outside the terminal

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i’d like to see that, actually...

 

BillyGoatGruff:  done

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ;)

 

WARMACHINEROX:  I KNOW

 

WARMACHINEROX:  I’LL BRING A GOAT

 

WARMACHINEROX:  might take me awhile to get through security with it though

 

BillyGoatGruff:  how about a stuffed one, like a plushie, instead?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  less cool

 

WARMACHINEROX:  infinitely more doable, but still, less cool

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i think you’re plenty cool without having to show up with live animals in tow

 

WARMACHINEROX:  aw, you sweet talker

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i can handle myself just fine, even if he  _ does _ turn out to be a serial killer, so lay the fuck off already Har

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ???

 

WARMACHINEROX:  SORRY

 

WARMACHINEROX:  wrong chat

 

BillyGoatGruff:  it’s good you have friends watching out for you

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’m  _ not  _ a serial killer, btw

 

WARMACHINEROX:  oh good

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i’ll let them know

 

WARMACHINEROX:  :P

 

BillyGoatGruff:  :P

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Tony drinks way too much coffee on the flight to Oklahoma.  He’s nervous, jittery, and sick to his stomach whenever he imagines a possible ‘bad reaction’ from James to his real identity.  

 

He’s going in guns blazing though.

 

Tony Stark has his own jet, so he’s not going to pretend to be coming in on a commercial plane.  He’s dressed in one of his best suits, signature goatee trimmed to perfection, nanotech resting safely in its housing.  He’s unmistakable.  He’s an icon in ten thousand dollar shades.

 

He’s also carrying a goat plushie.  

 

It’s actually not the weirdest thing he’s carried through an airport before.

 

The pilot is under orders to begin refueling as soon as they land, just in case he ends up flying right back to New York.  Tony hasn’t lived as long as he has by being an _optimist._  

 

When he lands, security pretty much waves him through.  He has his Accords paperwork that allows him to skip the metal detector, but they don’t even ask for it.  Tony’s stomach is flipping, tying itself in knots as he scans the crowd around the arrivals section.  It never shows on his face though.  He’s a few minutes early, he planned on security at least wanting autographs or something, so he’s ahead of schedule…  But there, in the crowd, there’s a guy holding a sign that says “WARMACHINEROX”, all caps, and-

 

No.

 

This…  They specifically joked around about this to make sure it _didn’t happen..._

 

The bottom drops out of Tony’s stomach.  

 

Because Bucky fucking Barnes, oh god, _James_ Buchanan Barnes, is holding a ridiculously large poster board as he scans the arrivals, his eyes falling on Tony almost at the same moment Tony sees him.  His eyes widen, and he looks away, almost hunching in on himself, like he’s trying to hide his presence from Tony without actually leaving.

 

Tony continues to stare, with disbelief, embarrassment, and finally anger surging through him at the sight of _him_ holding that sign.  But then Bucky’s brow furrows, and he looks back over at Tony, his eyes dropping down to the stuffed animal tucked under his arm.  He looks just as confused and almost as stricken as Tony does.

 

He hazards a glance at Tony’s face, meeting his eyes, a question there that neither of them are able to speak aloud.

 

And Tony just _stands there,_ like an _idiot,_ unable to form a response in light of the knowledge that Bucky obviously didn’t know it was him either.

 

Oh god.  His match, his only match _ever..._ is Bucky Barnes.  

 

Tony goes on autopilot, implements his “worst case scenario” plans, and does the mature, responsible thing, because he is an adult.  He leaves.  He turns on his heel, stuffs the goat plushie in the nearest trash can, and walks back out onto the tarmac.

 

“Wheels up ASAP,” he tells the flight crew.  

 

A few of them give him sympathetic looks, because they know it obviously didn’t work out, but there’s no way they saw what happened or _who_ it was from in here.

 

Tony sits down in his chair and continually tells himself not to take a drink for the whole rest of the flight home.  

 

 

Back inside the airport, James stands rooted to the spot, watching as Tony leaves.  When the goat gets unceremoniously stuffed in the trash, his eyes start to water.

 

He should have known better than to think he’d be allowed to have something good, something happy and pure, like getting to be in love.  

 

God, all the pieces fit together so well, he doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.  Tony obviously didn’t either though, and he’s an actual genius. _Tony._  Of all the people he’s never wanted to hurt again, the one person he never had any hope of making things up to is the one this happened with.

 

“Christ,” James mumbles to himself, wiping at his eyes.  

 

He folds up the sign he was carrying.  He thinks about throwing it away, but when he walks over to the trash can, he finds himself pulling the stuffed goat out of it instead.  It’s a little dirty from it’s stay in the bin, but it’s still the nicest stuffed animal James has ever seen in his life.

 

He’d like to say he doesn’t know why he takes it with him when he leaves, but he does.  

 

Because the Winter Soldier is not a man who deserves nice things.  And this will serve as a good reminder.

 

<//>

 

“Back so soon, Tones?  Uh, holy shit, you look like hell, Tony,” Rhodey jumps up off the couch when Tony walks in.  “Did he hurt you?  What happened?”

 

Tony shakes his head, partly in answer, partly because he doesn’t want to talk about it.  Good god, the last thing he wants to do is talk about it.

 

“Tony?” Rhodey keeps pushing, putting his hands on his best friend’s shoulders.  He looks like he could use steadying.

 

“It…  It was Barnes,” Tony finds himself saying, because he guesses somebody should know.  Just in case this is all part of an elaborate scheme or something.  It feels too small though, way, way too small of a scale for that, not like last time…

 

 _“Barnes_ was there?  What happened?”

 

“No, _it was Barnes.   James_ Buchanan Barnes.  It wasn't a fake name.  The only match I’ve ever had is the man who killed my mother,” Tony says, forcefully at first, but then weakly as he runs out of energy to be mad at the ridiculous tragedy his life insists on being.  

 

 _“What?_  Are you serious?  Were the rest of them there too?  So help me god, I will rain a _fiery hell_ down on those assholes.  I’m retired from the military now, I don’t have any career to worry about if somebody ever traces their bodies back to me,” Rhodey says.

 

It’s enough to make Tony smile, if only briefly.

 

“No, it was just him.  He… He looked just as shocked as I did, actually.  I think…  I think it was real?  I mean, I don’t think it was a trick or anything, at least, not on their parts.  His part.  A trick of fate, maybe.  Or a curse…”

 

“Oh Tones…  Come here, man,” Rhodey pulls him in for a hug.

 

“Rhodey?” Tony asks, his voice wavering with tears.

 

“Yeah?  Tell me what you need, Tony,” Rhodey says, his voice assuring that he’ll make it happen, whatever it is.  

 

“I think I’m done now.  Can I just be, _done?”_ Tony asks.

 

Rhodey tenses a little, not sure what he means by that.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’s helped Tony through a suicidal episode, but that was four decades, an abusive father, and an alcohol addiction ago…  A whole lifetime ago.  “Done?” he asks, not slackening his grip at all.

 

“Yeah.  I think I just want to be alone now?  I’m just done with trying to, to find someone.  No more holding out hope, no more going along with second chances.  I’m just done.  I’ll just be single, and that’ll hurt less,” Tony rambles against Rhodey’s shoulder.

 

“If that’s what you want, Tones,” Rhodey squeezes him tighter for a second in relief, “Then that’s what we’ll do.  I’ll make sure the boys know to lay off.”

 

“Thanks, Rhodey.”

 

“Anytime, Tones, anytime.”

 

<//>  

 

Tony has four messages through the Service’s app waiting for him when he checks his phone.

 

BillyGoatGruff:  Tony?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  I am so, so sorry

 

BillyGoatGruff:  I would have said something a long time ago, if I’d thought it was you

 

BillyGoatGruff:  sorry

 

Tony turns his profile inactive again and uninstalls the app.

 

<//>

 

“Come on, man, there’s other fish in the sea,” Sam says, patting James’ back hard enough to make his drink slosh, “Nobody really gets that lucky on their first try anyway.”

 

James stays hunched over the bar and pretends he’s listening, but Sam doesn’t _know._  Nobody else knows, and never will, if he can help it.

 

“You should message one of your other matches, get your mind off it,” Natasha suggests.

 

“I don’t have any other matches,” James answers gruffly.

 

Steve frowns.  “Well, maybe you’ll have to adjust your parameters a little.  I know you prefer male omegas, but you’ve been with girls before too…”

 

“I didn’t set any filters,” James informs them.  That declaration is met with more silence than he expected.  “What?”

 

“What do you mean, you didn’t set any?  Like, absolutely none?  Are you even into other alphas?” Sam asks, incredulous.  

 

“If we were compatible, I’d be willing to give it a try.  But there weren’t any.  I just only had the one match, and he happened to be a male omega.”

 

“No one only has _one_ match,” Steve says, disbelieving.

 

“I’ve heard of people who only had a few,” Sam adds, “But never anyone with just one.”

 

“I knew someone who didn’t have any,” Natasha says casually.  She’s not the type to engage in one-upmanship, so James believes her.

 

“Really?  Who?” Sam asks, looking ready to pity the poor soul immediately.

 

“Tony.”

 

“What?  No way.   _Playboy_ Tony Stark doesn’t have a single match?” Sam says.

 

James has to concentrate to keep from shattering the glass in his hand with the force of his grip.  Oh god.  He had no idea…  That just makes the devastation on Tony’s face when he’d seen James all the more heartbreaking.  

 

“Is that why his profile was deactivated?  He never told me…” Steve muses.

 

“Why would he have?” James asks derisively.  

 

“Uh, because they dated for over a year.  You didn’t know that, man?” Sam speaks up, always happy to know something about Steve that James didn’t.  

 

“You dated Tony?  And when was _that?”_ James asks, shooting for nonchalant and missing by a mile.  

 

Natasha raises an eyebrow at him.  

 

“Well, it was at the end there, before the Accords thing, and everything that happened with that…” Steve at least has the sense to look embarrassed.  

 

“When did you two break up?” James asks, _pushes,_ even though he knows it invites attention, because this is too fucking important to just let go.  

 

“What does it matter, Buck?  Er, James.  You know what I meant,” Steve sighs, like he knows exactly where James is going with this and is already tired of the argument.  “It was over a decade ago.”  Which means that exactly what James is afraid of is probably true, that Steve not only betrayed his teammate and friend to “rescue” him, but his _boyfriend_ at the time as well.  

 

“It matters Steve, obviously not to _you,_ but it still fucking _matters,”_ James says angrily.  

 

“You know I did what I had to, to keep you safe,” Steve counters, a well worn argument between them.

 

“I never asked you to and you know that.  Don’t act put out that I don’t agree with everything you did in my name, when I had no say in it.  You know I had no idea what the fuck was going on back then.”

 

“Should I have even come here?  I thought after all this time, we could have moved past this…  If we’re just going to be arguing constantly, should I have stayed in New York?  Should I have only come to visit once in awhile like when you were still in Wakanda?” Steve says, exasperated, but with a hint of seriousness to it.

 

James wants to say yes.  He likes his privacy and not having to worry about being “Bucky Barnes” with any regularity.  But if he does say yes, there’s a chance that Steve might actually be offended enough to move back to New York…  

 

There’s very little, virtually nothing, that James can do to make things right between himself and Tony.  But if he can at least keep Steven Grant Rogers on this side of the country and out of the man’s hair, it will have been _something._  

 

“No, Stevie…  You can live wherever you want, punk, you know that,” James throws a little extra nostalgia onto his very real feeling of wanting Steve to stay here, even though it isn’t for the reasons they all think.  Dropping a “punk” into the conversation has always worked like a charm too, and James is not disappointed with the result this time either.

 

“Glad to know I’ve got your permission, jerk,” Steve smiles.

 

James smiles back just as wide while he imagines punching Steve in the neck.

 

<//>

 

Tony is in Japan for a tech conference when a group of villains threaten to blow up Mount Rushmore during peak tourist season.  The Accords council activates two superhero teams, since Tony’s absence leaves the New York one a little too small to deal with it on their own, and the X-men are currently off planet.  

 

The Winter Soldier saves Spiderman from being impaled that day while Tony watches helplessly from a webcam.  

 

When Tony gets back to New York, he personally hacks into the Service’s data banks.  There’s no evidence of tampering with his or Barnes’ files though.  Tony can trace the other man’s biological profile right to the terminal where it was uploaded in Wakanda.  They really are that compatible.

 

In a fit of anger, not even at Barnes, just at the world and at chance and at stupid _fate,_ Tony sweeps all the tools off his workbench.  He picks up and throws the ones that are too heavy to be moved otherwise.  His prototype of the StarkPad XV gets smashed against the far wall just as Peter and Harley walk into the lab.

 

“Jesus, what the hell?” Harley asks, frowning.

 

“What are you doing?  Are you ok?” Peter says at the same time, rushing forward to Tony’s side.

 

“I’m destroying things, because I can’t drink,” Tony explains, making a crazy sort of sense.  

 

“Yeah, but your prototypes too?” Harley questions, stepping through the mess a toeing pieces here and there.

 

“Sometimes things that are expensive are better to see in pieces,” Tony says with a disaffected half shake of his head, “And those can’t even be bought with money, so…”

 

“That’s kind of fucked up,” Harley comments.

 

“Harley!” Peter hisses.

 

“What?  If you’re going to go crazy, you could at least do it in a fun way,” he tells Tony directly, “Like, claim you saw the Virgin Mary in an oil stain on the workshop floor and start a new religion or something.”

 

“...To be honest?  That whole, ‘destroying things that are expensive is better’ thing does sound a little, tiny bit, uh, super _villain_ -y…” Peter adds hesitantly.  

 

“I’m not turning to the darkside, boys,” Tony assures them, but he doesn’t make any move to start cleaning up.  Instead, he sinks slowly into his rolling chair, staring at the disaster.

 

Peter and Harley just stand there awkwardly for a minute.  

 

“You know what the _really_ fucked up part is?” Tony asks, breaking the silence but not his gaze at the destruction he wrought, “Barnes was born _53 years_ before I was.  If he _hadn’t_ been captured by Hydra, he would have been 71 by the time I was 18.  So this was never anything but a cruel joke on fate’s part to begin with…”

 

Peter sends Harley to go get Rhodey while he stays at Tony’s side.  

 

<//>

 

He’s fine.  It’s just his hormones going out of whack because of the menopause.  Really.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

James frowns at the banging happening on his front door.  He hopes it isn’t Scott in the doghouse again, wanting to sleep on his couch.  He just cleaned his apartment and that man is a walking disaster area when it comes to accidental messes.

 

“Jesus, keep it down, the neighbors are going to call-” James’ train of thought is abruptly interrupted by the identity of the person on the other side of his door.  

 

Tony just stands there for a second, glaring at him.  

 

“Look, I’m not mad at you for being Hydra’s tool, ok?  That’s old news.  Let’s just get that out of the way first.  I am a full grown, rational adult, and with a little fucking time to process it, I understood that you were not in control of your own body, ok?  This isn’t about that,” Tony says forcefully, which doesn’t lend a whole lot of credence to his words, but James is willing to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that the emotion on display right now is over their _current_ fucked up situation.

 

“I came here because I feel like I deserve to know, ok?  Was it real?” Tony asks, his tone demanding and harsh.  “Did we really get matched up, or is this just some convoluted plot to continue to ruin my life?”

 

“What?  No! I would never do something like that…  Jesus, the last thing I want to do is cause you any more pain,” James says with a sorrowful earnestness.

 

Tony looks seconds away from crying, but like, angry, frustrated crying, not the sad kind.  “Did you know?” he asks, the same fire hiding behind his eyes as when he asked that question to Steve all those years ago.  

 

James shakes his head as he lowers himself to his knees.  “No.  I had no idea it was you I was talking to, I swear,” he answers, looking up at Tony with no expectations in his eyes, only unshed tears.  He’s willing to accept whatever Tony decides is appropriate in the situation, which may mean a sock in the face, or just walking away entirely.  Tony hasn’t come inside, he’s still hovering just outside the doorway, keeping out of reach.  

 

Tony searches James’ face while the alpha answers.  He finds himself instinctually wanting to feel more at ease with the man on his knees, but intellectually, he knows _Bucky Barnes_ still presents the same threat as always.  God, this is such a mess.

 

Turning sideways, Tony uses his own stiff body language to indicate that he isn’t “ok” with this or anything, without letting James be at his back unguarded.  But at the same time, he just doesn’t know what to _say_ , either.  The situation is just so impossibly fucked up…

 

“This is so fucked up,” James sighs, rubbing his hands over his face, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this, and, I’m sorry…” he adds.

 

Tony’s still silent for a moment.

 

“Do you really not have any other matches?” Tony finally asks, shifting his head to look at James sideways, but keeping his body turned away.  

 

James blinks at him, processing the jump in topic.  “No, I don’t.  Although, Princess Shuri said that the serum might interfere with the parameters the Service had set for the biological compatibility thing?”

 

“That makes sense, actually,” Tony concedes, because _science._  “Did she give you a range of how far things could be off?”

 

“She said about 20%, based on some sort of indicators she could see in my blood,” James answers.

 

“So we could in actuality be only 60% compatible,” Tony muses, still keeping James in the corner of his vision.  

 

“Uh, actually…” James says, but he stumbles a little at the look Tony gives him, “She said it would show up as a decreased compatibility, it, uh, it wouldn’t make me look _more_ compatible than I was…”

 

Tony just looks at him sadly, like he wishes there were any other words in the world coming out of his mouth right now.  

 

“Is…  Is 100% rare or something?” James asks.  

 

Tony continues to look at him like everything about James’ existence is sad, which is fairly accurate at this point...  Whether by accident or design, Tony turns slightly toward him as he speaks.  “We’re soulmates.  100% is reserved for soulmates only,” Tony tells him flatly, like he just can’t work up the emotion to be shocked at their situation anymore.  

 

James’ eyes widen.  

 

“How could you not know that?” Tony asks.  

 

“I didn’t know they could _test_ for that kind of thing,” James explains, “I didn’t know compatibility and soulmates were the same thing, I thought being ‘soulmates’ was just in fairy tales and movies and stuff…”

 

Tony frowns at him, but now he’s facing him straight on again, and he tips his head to the side.  “I’ve been plenty close enough to get a whiff of you before, and nothing happened...maybe Princess Shuri is wrong.  Or maybe your results are off, but it’s not a full 20%.  We could be only 99% compatible,” Tony suggests.

 

James’ face goes particularly blank when he mentions having smelled each other before.  At first Tony thinks it’s because that was when they fought in Siberia, but then James bows his head and puts a hand over the scent gland at the base of his neck.  

 

“They…  Hydra cut them out…” James says roughly, “And eventually they found a way to keep them from growing back, even with my healing factor…  That was one of the things Princess Shuri did first when they were trying to get my head back on straight, was find a way to heal them again…  So I didn’t have any smell at all, back then, but, uh, I’m sure that was the last thing on your mind…” James explains, giving Tony a tired, apologetic, watery half-smile.  

 

Tony just stands there with wide eyes, because _Jesus_ , that’s one of the most horrific forms of torture you can do to an alpha or omega...  And you’d have to cut out _all_ sets of glands, not just the ones in the neck, for it to have that affect…  Tony feels vaguely nauseous just _thinking_ about it.  

 

Almost on autopilot, Tony finds himself taking a step closer.  Not just out of curiosity, but because he’s the type of man who _has_ to know all the variables.

 

James watches him, afraid to even _look_ too hopeful, in the event that it scares him away.  

 

While he doesn’t like to be treated as if he’s fragile, Tony does appreciate James’ caution in this situation.  

 

He slowly moves forward, testing things out one step at a time.  

 

James removes his hand from his neck, as much of an invitation as he feels Tony will allow…  Because _too_ much invitation can come across as _expectation_ , and James will never _ever_ feel like Tony owes him anything.  

 

On his knees, James isn’t actually that much shorter than Tony.  So when the man finally gets close, all he really has to do is bend his neck a little to put his nose near James’ scent gland.  Which by design of biology, bares his own gland to James.

 

James is almost afraid to breathe, but when he does…  When he does, it changes _everything_.

 

Tony smells like machine oil.  He smells like the gears of his Ma’s old sewing machine, that she kept their family fed with.  James doesn’t even remember his mother’s face, but Tony’s scent brings up the image of her fingers showing him how to oil the machine with a vividness that’s shocking.  Tony smells like a freshly cleaned gun, like the rifle James trusted with his life for years.  Tony smells like a dozen small parts all working together for the greater good.  

 

James takes a deep breath, letting the scent just sink into him and soothe him.  It takes him a moment to realize that his hands are on Tony’s hips, but considering that the man is now straddling him, he hopes it won’t be considered too much of a liberty…  Somehow he’s ended up sitting back on his heels, whether he initiated that or Tony pushed him back, he has no idea.

 

Tony knows as soon as he takes the first small, half of a breath, that Princess Shuri is indeed the smartest person on the planet.  

 

James smells like dryer sheets.  He smells like being carried around in a basket of fresh, warm laundry by Jarvis, three years old and without a care in the world.  James smells like helping to fold washcloths with clumsy hands while Jarvis shook out the big bath towels, sending a million little particles floating in the air of a sunny afternoon.  Tony takes a deep breath, humming in contentment as a warmth he hasn’t experienced in years settles into his bones.  James smells like being wrapped up in a soft blanket and rocked to sleep by loving arms.  Tony…  Tony had forgotten what that felt like, to be honest.

 

It’s that more than anything, the disparity of feeling _safe_ when he knows the world doesn’t work like that, that snaps him out of it.  

 

Tony pulls back from James’ arms, vaguely remembering trying to get closer to him, which must be how he ended up in the man’s lap…  But thankfully James doesn’t make any move to hold onto him or keep him there.  His eyes look just as wide as Tony’s when he realizes what they were doing.  

 

“Yeah, no, I’m not ready for that,” Tony says, beating a hasty retreat away from the alpha.  

 

James stays where he is, but nods, slowly lowering his hands to his sides.  

 

Tony backs up out of the still open front door, keeping an eye on James like he might spring toward him at any moment.  He hesitates on the concrete walkway of the apartment complex, looking at James, then away, then back at James.

 

“I…  Is this...a _bad_ thing?...” James finally asks, not bothering to hide how vulnerable he is, how much he’s hanging on Tony’s answer.  His nostrils flare outside his control, his body trying to catch any lingering bit of Tony’s amazing scent that’s left on the air between them.  

 

Tony sees it of course, but he also sees how James holds himself perfectly in check as well, not moving a muscle toward him even though his every instinct must be screaming at him, just like Tony’s are.  

 

‘It’s...complicated.  Not _bad_ bad, just…  Too much, all at once,” Tony says honestly, feeling his eyes begin to water.

 

James nods.  He looks relieved that Tony isn’t rejecting their connection outright.

 

“Maybe…  Maybe we could just talk once in a while, by text, like we were, if in person is too much?...” James asks, letting a small bit of hopefulness into his voice.  He may not want to push, but he doesn’t want Tony to think there’s no interest on his end at all by being _too_ placid…  

 

Tony looks at him long and hard, the gears obviously turning as he makes his decision.

 

“I’ll reinstall the app,” he finally says, giving James a curt nod.  Then he turns and heads for the stairs, not looking back once.

 

James can’t decide if that’s bad because he’s in such a hurry to get away, or if it’s actually hopeful, because he at least trusts James not to pounce on him from behind…  He wishes there was a way to _hope_ without _getting his hopes up._  Maybe that’s just part of working out a relationship though…  He stays on his knees and just _breathes,_ until there’s no trace of Tony left around him anymore.  Then he finally gets up and closes the door.

 

An hour later, Scott shows up with a bowed head and a wince on his face, ready to look as pathetic as possible when James opens the door.  

 

James just sighs and makes a sweeping motion toward his couch.  

 

“I’m gonna start charging you rent,” he says, gruff but clearly joking, which is a much better reception than Scott usually gets.  

 

Unfortunately, the man seems to take James’ mild acceptance of him as proof of them being actual friends.  

 

It could be worse though.  He could be dealing with Scott sleeping on his couch and _not_ getting texts from WARMACHINEROX saying they’ve officially used up every square on their romcom trope bingo cards, which is coincidentally the first “duodenal bingo” ever.  James has to do a little googling to make sure that means what he thinks it means, but he’s not disappointed.

 

BillyGoatGruff:  what was our “free space”?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  age difference

 

James grins to himself when he sees that, because he basically gave Tony an opening to go for any issue he wanted, but he chose something fairly neutral.  

 

“Ah, shit.  Sorry!” Scott’s voice calls out after there’s a crashing noise from the bathroom.  

 

James lets him sweat it a little and just keeps texting.

  
  


 


	5. Chapter 5

It’s rare that more than one superhero team is needed for any one incident these days.  The team James is on wouldn’t usually interact with Tony’s in a professional capacity unless the world was ending.  Again.

 

However, the baddie of the day has decided to attack the UN building in New York while James’ team is there for the annual all-team review.  He made it clear by text that he doesn’t have any expectation of getting to see Tony in person while he’s here, unless _Tony_ wanted to, but he hadn’t anticipated this.  

 

The gas that starts spewing from the ventilation system makes James briefly yearn for his old Winter Soldier mask, but he pushes the thought aside as unhelpful.  There aren’t any windows he can jump through to escape it in this part of the building.  It doesn’t seem to be instantly lethal, but it does make his head feel funny, his thoughts almost muddled.  

 

Whatever evil scientist responsible has hijacked the sound system throughout the building too and is giving some sort of manifesto.  James has a hard time concentrating on what he’s saying as they rush through the hallways.  Something about reducing superheros to their baser instincts to prove they’re no better than the rest of humanity, blah blah blah.  

 

Steve and the rest of the team are all with him, since they were about to head out for lunch now that their review is over.  

 

James’ first indication that the gas might be doing more than just fuzzing the thoughts of the others is when Scott and Hope start _aggressively_ making out in the middle of their search for the bad guys.  

 

Then Sam and Bobbi Morse start eyeing each other like Scott and Hope have the right idea, while Natasha backs away from the group and disappears around the corner altogether.  

 

Steve takes a step toward James, and suddenly his hackles are up in a way he hasn’t experienced since he went through puberty and was learning to deal with other alpha’s presences for the first time as one himself.

 

He growls, low and warning at Steve.  

 

Steve growls back.  

 

It’s not so much a matter of who throws the first punch, but of them both colliding in a super soldier enhanced fury of alpha dominance.  James is pretty sure he gets thrown through a wall at one point, but it’s only out of desperation on Steve’s part.  Because without the shield, which he never got back after Siberia, James clearly has the upper hand.  

 

Metaphorically and physically.  

 

It isn’t until after James has broken Steve’s arm, because he just refuses to fucking _submit,_ that the bomb goes off.  

 

The knock from the blast and the fresh air that rushes in because of it both start clearing James’ head right away.  

 

The first thing he feels upon realizing what happened is shame.  Because it’s obvious his super metabolism is clearing the chemical more quickly than most of the people around him.  So shouldn’t that mean it wouldn’t have affected him as deeply to begin with?  Again, that’s not helpful in the moment though, so he pushes it aside to deal with later.  

 

Steve groans as he comes to and the full extent of his injuries hit him.  

 

The only one engaging the evil scientist out of a building full of superheros is Ironman.  

 

What James sees of the fight through a collapsed wall is short and brutal.  He pulls himself up out of the rubble, but he’s not fast enough to help in the battle.  

 

Ironman kill shots _sixteen_ of the scientist’s henchmen in a row, with guided mini missiles, lasers, and a blast from his chest piece that goes _through_ a “decorative” wall that is actually highly reinforced, which is supposed to be for civilians to shelter behind but was being used by the bad guys instead.  Then he lifts the leader up by his collar.

 

The evil scientist sputters, knowing he’s lost, and immediately starts telling Ironman that there’s no antidote needed, the effects of the gas it will clear on their own without continued exposure.  

 

Ironman snaps his neck and drops his limp body on the ground.

 

Jesus Christ.  

 

What the hell has gotten into him?...

 

Emergency personnel are just starting to enter the building, wearing respirators of course, when James sees it.  

 

On the other side of the room from where the bad guys had set up camp, backed into a corner, is Harley Keener, with a very obviously broken leg.  

 

Ironman goes directly to him once the threat has been eliminated, his helmet retracting as he starts scenting the kid comfortingly.  Harley looks like he’s trying valiantly not to cry.  Whether the gas is helping or hindering that, who knows.  He clings to the hug as Tony slightly rocks him back and forth.  

 

EMT’s wearing masks approach the pair, but a warning growl from Tony halts them in their tracks.  

 

James had assumed at first that if Tony was fighting the bad guys, that he must not have gotten hit by the gas at all.  But as soon as James realizes that he had, but the bad guys were in between Tony and his _injured pup,_ the excessive force makes a lot more sense.  

 

Base instincts indeed...

 

Steve, like most everyone else around, is watching Tony’s corner even while being patched up themselves.  

 

Tony won’t let anyone get close, still in protection mode, but Harley’s leg is going to need medical attention sooner rather than later.  Who knows how long it will take this stuff to clear out of a normal human’s system.  There are still people all around them engaging in less than decent activities with each other...

 

The EMT’s start to move forward anyway, against Tony’s warning, but they freeze when the omega raises a gauntlet at them, powered up and ready to fire at any moment.

 

The EMT’s back away from Tony to try and regroup.  

 

Harley starts holding his leg and crying, the pain obviously getting worse, so James makes a decision.  Tony seems distressed by Harley’s tears, but warring with his instincts about letting weird, masked strangers near his hurting pup.  

 

James walks over to them.

 

“Buck-  James? What are you doing?” Steve calls after him.

 

“Trying to help,” he says.  

 

He ignores the rest of what Steve says after that.  

 

Keeping his approach slow and steady, James gets right up to the spot where the EMT’s had reached before being growled at.  Then he spreads his hands to his sides, half surrender, half placation.

 

Tony eyes him up, but he doesn’t growl.  

 

James continues forward one step at a time, holding his wrist out for Tony to smell if he wants.  As close as he is, James can see the recognition flash briefly in Tony’s eyes once he gets a whiff of his scent.  Tony whines, pulling him down to kneel next to Harley and motioning toward his injured leg over and over.  It’s an asking for help if James has ever seen one.  

 

“I’m gonna get Harley some help, ok?  See those medics right there?  I know they’re wearing respirators like the bad guys were, but they’re here to help, I promise,” James says, not sure how much of that will get through to Tony in his current state.  He rubs his wrist against his own neck, then offers it to Tony _and_ Harley.  They both rub it against their own necks willingly.  

 

It seems like every set of eyes in the place is on him, but James tries not to let it get to him.  He goes back to the medics and offers them the same wrist.  They all accept as well, knowing that being marked as “friendly” is probably the only way they’re going to get close to Harley.  

 

When they approach this time, Tony doesn’t growl, but he still looks at them warily.  James goes and stands at Tony’s side, for solidarity, showing him he’s willing to help him keep watch over Harley as well.  

 

Getting into the ambulance is a bit of an ordeal.  Thankfully Tony seems to be coming around a little, and they’re able to convince him to ride without the armor on.  It follows the ambulance on autopilot though, in some kind of bodyguard mode, and is waiting for him as soon as they get to the hospital.  Thankfully Tony doesn’t put it on again, but it does follow them into the waiting room.

 

“I don’t suppose you have anywhere we could wait that’s a little more, uh, private?” James asks, motioning toward the suit.  He has to explain what’s going on to the head nurse, but she does eventually let them use an empty exam room to hunker down in.  Tony still has trouble allowing the doctors to take Harley away for surgery, even though he’s more clear headed now.  How he’s acting while distraught and still mildly affected by the chemical is not something James thinks that Tony would want the public to see.  

 

As soon as James sits down to wait, Tony deposits himself in his lap, sitting sideways with his legs up over the armrest.  He leans in against James’ chest, giving a soft whine of displeasure, asking for comfort.

 

James puts his arms around him and hopes that this will still be ok with Tony once he’s in his right mind.  It’s not like he’s asking for anything sexual, so James doesn’t feel bad giving him a hug…  Tony had told him in the month since they started talking again, that he really did love James’ scent, he just wasn’t ready to _mate and bond_ with him, which is usually where soulmate meetings end up going…  

 

The trauma, and hell, maybe a chemical in the gas too, seem to be keeping either of them from being too affected by the other’s scent.  It’s just an extra layer of comfort, rather than an urge to bond.  James wonders if the change to his body from the serum is part of that too, their ability to resist it if they try.  The stories always make it sound instant and overwhelming, with the couple having no choice in the matter.  Maybe this way is better though.  If there’s one thing James can understand, it’s the feeling that comes from having your choice taken away from you.  

 

They must doze off, waiting in the exam room.  The doctor coming in to tell them Harley’s surgery went well startles them both awake.  He politely ignores their position, telling them they can see Harley in a few minutes, he’s just being moved into a post-op bed now.  

 

James immediately moves his arms once he wakes up, letting Tony get up out of his lap if he wants.  Tony decides to just own it though, staying put while the doctor gives his news and then leaves.  Of course Tony thanks him profusely, but he never makes any move to stand.  

 

Once the doctor is gone, Tony fiddles with a rip in James’ shirt, rather than look at him.  

 

“Well, this is awkward,” he finally says, hazarding a glance at James’ face.  

 

Hesitantly, James puts a hand on the small of Tony’s back.  “It’s only as awkward as you want it to be…”

 

Tony nods in understanding, but again, he makes no move to get away.

 

“So, do you think we just revealed our grand romance to the world today?” he asks instead, his tone upbeat but his body language still subdued.

 

James shrugs.  “I think I remember the evil scientist guy saying that the chemical was designed to reduce people to their base instincts, so we could play it off as a strictly alpha and omega thing, if we wanted.”

 

“Would you be upset, if that's what I wanted?” Tony asks.

 

“Not at all,” James says, bumping his nose against Tony’s temple, “We’re still taking things slow, and we don’t owe the world anything when it comes to information about our relationship.”

 

“We’re in a relationship?” Tony says, smiling just a little.  

 

“Yeah, if you want to be…  I mean, we’re kind of still getting to know each other, but I sure as hell ain’t going around trying to get to know anyone _else…_ ”

 

“Hmm, exclusively getting to know each other…  That doesn’t sound so bad…” Tony agrees.  “We should probably go check on Harley now,” he says next, but he still doesn’t get up.  

 

Tony _seems_ perfectly fine, but James wonders if he’s still fighting his instincts harder than normal…

 

“You need help up?” James asks him.

 

Tony shakes his head.

 

“I just…  I killed _seventeen_ people in my rage that they had hurt him…  I…  The ringleader had basically given up and I still snapped his neck like a twig,” Tony says, closing his eyes.  

 

“Well, you still did a hell of a lot better than my team,” James tells him, gently rubbing Tony’s back, “Half of them started fucking in the halls, Natasha took off completely, and Steve and I were too busy fighting for dominance to be of any use in the real battle.  Honestly, your maternal instincts saved the day, Tony.”

 

Tony buries his face in James’ shoulder out of embarrassment at the praise.  

 

“You didn’t seem affected at all when you came up to me and Harley,” Tony mutters.

 

“I think my metabolism just cleared it quicker, that’s all.  And Steve’s got the broken arm to prove it,” James snorts.  He isn’t the kind of person to truly laugh at another’s pain, but the situation is just the littlest, tiniest bit funny.  

 

Tony picks his head up and looks at James, as if needing to see his face to verify the truth.  “You broke Rogers’ arm? _Why?_  I would’ve thought he’d submit to his best buddy ol’ pal, no problem, if you pushed it...”

 

James raises an eyebrow.  “That man has never submitted to anything a day in his _life._  He’d tell gravity to fuck off if somebody pointed it out to him.”

 

Tony snickers, which helps lighten the mood drastically.  

 

They finally get up, with Tony stowing the suit back away as nanoparticles before they go see Harley.  Thankfully he’s recovering well and the gas has worn off all the way for him too.  Tony decides to stay with him until he’s released, so he can take him back to the Tower.  

 

Apparently a UN rep has been waiting to debrief them until Harley was awake, so the three of them take turns telling their sides of the story right then, while everything is fresh.  Tony also has FRIDAY forward a recording of the incident from his suit as well.  The UN rep is pleased with their thoroughness, making sure to say as much to them directly before he leaves.  

 

James decides he better take off too, so he has time to shower and change before his flight back to California.  

 

“Thanks again for your help, Snowflake,” Tony says, giving him a quick hug.  

 

“No problem, Tony, any time.  I hope you get better soon, Harley,” James tells them, chuckling a little at the nickname.

 

“Eh, I’m young, I’ll heal quick,” Harley shrugs it off, though he does ask James to sign his cast before he leaves.  James writes a “J” and a scribble, then draws a picture of a snowflake next to it.

 

When Tony sees it, he pinks a little in pleasure at James’ obvious acceptance of the nickname.

 

After James is out the door and it’s closed firmly behind him, Harley speaks up.  

 

_“Snowflake?_   And a _hug_ _?_  Are you guys fucking already?” he asks, ribbing Tony automatically.  

 

Tony coughs.  

 

“No, we are not _fucking,_ not that it’s any of your business…  There may have been some brief, very chaste, very situationally appropriate cuddling, but that’s it.  Really more of, just a hug, actually.  A long, comfortable hug,” Tony rambles, continuing to blush the entire time.  

 

Harley grins at him.  

 

“I will disown you if you ask even one more question about my love life, don’t think I won’t.”

 

“You know, that threat loses its effectiveness after the dozenth time,” Harley points out, still grinning as if in triumph.

 

“Fine, I’ll leave you nothing but my parents’ dusty mansion and the ‘75 Vauxhall Astra I totaled while learning to drive,” Tony challenges.  

 

“Why would you still have a car that you totaled when you were a teenager?” Harley asks, momentarily distracted.  

 

“Uh, it was actually Jarvis’ car…  Dad just had it towed to one of his properties afterward and left it there, I think he must have forgotten about it after he bought Jarvis a new one,” Tony says, shaking his head.  

 

Harley gives him a look that lets him know exactly how much he understands what that car would mean, and how it actually undermines almost the entirety of his supposed threat.  

 

“So, is he a good kisser?”

  
  


 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw all male omegas and female alphas are intersex in this and pretty much all my fics.

WARMACHINEROX:  ugh, how 20th century of you

 

BillyGoatGruff:  what do you mean?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  that argument works when you aren’t debating any politics more complicated than the US and Canada teaming up

 

WARMACHINEROX:  but it falls apart in a more complex scenario

 

BillyGoatGruff:  you mean like the middle east conflicts?

 

WARMACHINEROX:   _exactly_

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i heard that whole thing was a mess

 

WARMACHINEROX:  the technical term was clusterfuck

 

WARMACHINEROX:  all because of the antiquated idea that “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”

 

BillyGoatGruff:  but how does that relate to Dune?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  keep reading ;)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  anyone ever tell you you’re a tease, doll?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  not in the literary sense, no

 

WARMACHINEROX:  :P

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i guess i’d be lying though, if i said i didn’t like it

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ;)

 

WARMACHINEROX:  pfffft

 

WARMACHINEROX:  it’s only because it’s me and you know it ;)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  true

 

BillyGoatGruff:  if Scott told me i should read a book so we could talk about it, I’d turn him in to the council for being possessed by an alien consciousness or something

 

<//>

 

“So what ever happened to only having one match?” Natasha says coyly.

 

James is fully aware that he’s been ignoring everyone else in the room in favor of smiling at his phone.  He debates lying to her for a second, because he _could,_ it would just take a pretty substantial effort on his part.  Effort he doesn’t feel like putting out on her.

 

“Yeah, who’s this new person you’re talking to all the time?” Steve adds his two cents.  

 

“It ain’t someone new, it’s the same guy as before,” James says casually, continuing to type his response to Tony.  

 

He can see Natasha’s raised eyebrow in his peripheral vision.

 

“Hey man, you know you don’t have to settle for this guy if he’s stringing you along, just because he was your only match, right?” Scott says, frowning.  

 

His concern is maybe, _almost_ kind of touching, even though he has no idea what he’s talking about.

 

“Look…  I kind of lied to him, didn’t tell him who I was, and he freaked.  That’s the reason we broke things off for a while.  But we decided to give it another chance,” James says, hoping it’s enough to keep them all off his back for a little while, _“He_ decided to give me a chance.”

 

“Oh…  That’s good,” Scott nods, “Having a forgiving partner is real important.”

 

He would know.

 

“I’m glad for you then, second chances _are_ important,” Steve adds, looking a little somber.  

 

“Is he cute?” Natasha asks, deflecting _way_ too obviously with such a “girly” question.

 

James flicks his eyes upward, meeting hers steadily, and says, “Yeah.”  

 

Scott perks up, like James answering that single question gives them all open season.  

 

James’ phone chimes with Tony’s reply.  He decides to volunteer a little info, to keep from looking suspicious by not being willing to give _any._

 

“His name’s Edward, Eddie,” James says, which is what Tony told him in the beginning, so it’s only half a lie and easy to remember, “He’s a writer,” is the only other piece James gives out, not wanting to go too far out of character in the other direction.  Tony doesn’t write books, he writes _code,_ but it’s not technically a lie, just info that he knows they’ll misinterpret.  

 

“A writer?  Wow, that’s like, pretty romantic, right?” Scott says, “Has he written anything I’ve heard of?”

 

“Nope,” James says casually, reading over Tony’s text and thinking of a response.  

 

“I hope he’s not one of those unemployed guys who claims they’re writer but actually just doesn’t want to get a real job,” Sam throws out there, giving James a look like he’s been warned.  

 

James gives him a flat one back, not rising to the bait of an argument.  

 

While he’s “distracted” Natasha darts in and makes to swipe his phone out of his hand, a fake, childish grin on her face like she’s going to out all his secrets, like they’re teenagers playing around, like they’re _friends._  

 

James does some darting of his own, clamping his fingers around her wrist so tightly that it will definitely leave a bruise.  If he wanted to, he could crush the bones outright, and she _knows_ that, but she seems like she’s forgotten.  Natasha drops the smile immediately, her eyes going wary, but James’ phone is still grasped in her fingers.  

 

_“Careful,_ _”_ James says in Russian, _“_ _Touching my things is a ‘mark’ against you, Natalia."_

 

She drops the phone immediately into James’ waiting palm.  Her pulse is starting to pick up just from that, because she isn’t stupid, even though she’s rusty and has overstepped her bounds.

 

“Was that Russian?” Scott says, looking confused, “Oh shit, are you going all ‘Winter Soldier’ on us right now?” he asks, leaning closer to James as if he’ll be able to _see_ the difference.

 

James looks at him, blinks, and switches back to English.  “The triggers were removed,” he says, flicking the man in the forehead.  “I was just reminding her not to touch my stuff.”

 

“Ow!  Don’t bruise me!  I have a date with Hope tonight,” Scott says sullenly, rubbing at his forehead and pouting a little.  

 

_“He would have made a horrible spider, but a passable pet.  I guess I can see why the Wasp tolerates him,”_ James says in Russian, just to make sure his point is thoroughly driven home.  

 

“What?  No fair, only you and Nat speak Russian,” Scott whines.  

 

“I said I’d help you put some concealer on it later, if you need it,” James lies through his teeth, rolling his eyes at Scott.

 

Natasha finds a reason to leave the room shortly after that, like he knew she would.  

 

James goes back to smiling like a dope at his phone.

 

<//>

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’m in fucking love

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i tooold you

 

BillyGoatGruff:  jesus christ

 

BillyGoatGruff:  how have i never tried this stuff before????

 

WARMACHINEROX:  lol

 

BillyGoatGruff:  hmm, if i leave for the store right now, i’ll get there just as i finish this jar...

 

WARMACHINEROX:  maybe buy two this time ;)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  jars?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  waste of effort

 

BillyGoatGruff:  two _cases_ , maybe

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i’d warn you about the calorie count and your waistline, but, supersoldier

 

WARMACHINEROX:  ;)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’m going to be putting biscoff on everything i eat for the next week at least

 

WARMACHINEROX:  breakfast included?  

 

WARMACHINEROX:  biscoff + eggs = regret

 

BillyGoatGruff:  waffles

 

BillyGoatGruff:  toast

 

BillyGoatGruff:  cereal?...

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’ll let you know hwo it goes

 

WARMACHINEROX:  I’ll wait with bated breath

  
  


WARMACHINEROX:  you still there?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  yeah, just doing the math on how many jars i need to fill a tub

 

BillyGoatGruff:  because i am going to take a _bath_ in this stuff

 

<//>

 

Tony goes to use the newly renovated omega restrooms at the UN headquarters and runs into Scott Lang puking his guts out in one of the stalls.  He can’t see who it is when he first comes in, there’s just the sound of retching and the smell of bile.  Tony just goes about his business and isn’t going to be nosy.  Then the bowl flushes and Lang steps out just as Tony’s washing his hands.

 

He can’t help it, he raises an eyebrow as their eyes meet in the mirror, because Lang looks like death warmed over, pale and exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes.  

 

Lang gives him a “what can you do?” smile and moves to wash his hands too.  There’s never been the same level of animosity between the two of them as Tony and the rest of the Rogues, somewhat surprisingly.  Maybe because Tony never knew him before, so him choosing the side he did didn’t feel like a personal betrayal… Or maybe because the man reminds him of one of those large breed puppies, where they look the size of a full grown dog, but haven’t learned not to run on the linoleum yet...  

 

Either way, Tony decides that the man looks crappy enough to warrant the exchange of at least a few words…

 

“You alright there, Lang?”

 

“What?” Scott asks, putting a hand on his abdomen as he blinks at Tony, “Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine.”

 

“You know, pregnancies have to be reported to the council by the fourth month for active duty signees...” Tony reminds him, eyeing the hand the man has over his stomach protectively.  He doesn’t necessarily _smell_ pregnant, but there _is_ something different about him...

 

“Pregnancies?...” Lang says, looking confused, “Oh, no no no.  This is just a _food_ baby, man.  Shit, you had me freaked out for a second there.”

 

“Oh, sorry…  Just the way you were holding your,” Tony waves at Lang’s midsection, “And the throwing up…  Maybe some tamiflu is in order then?”

 

“Nah, I don’t have the flu, I just got my ass kicked in an _intense_ Wii U tournament and made myself sick on biscoff in the same night, and it’s still catching up with me,” Lang explains.  “I thought I was fine, but then I woke up late and had to hurry to the airport, and the plane ride over here brought it all back, if you know what I mean.  But thanks for watching out, man,” he says, giving Tony a friendly pat on the shoulder.

 

It’s not even until fifteen minutes have passed that Tony thinks to wonder _why_ he was trying to care-take _Scott Lang._  It only takes him another three after that to figure it out.  

 

WARMACHINEROX:  uh

 

WARMACHINEROX:  why does Scott Lang smell like you?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  because he’s a freeloading idiot who regularly pisses off his girlfriend badly enough to get kicked out

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i see

 

BillyGoatGruff:  and he never stops wanting to play Wii sports with me no matter how many times i wipe the floor with him

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i thought you said “before” that you had no interest in forming a pack with your co-workers?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i don’t

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ???

 

WARMACHINEROX:  James

 

WARMACHINEROX:  he smells like you

 

WARMACHINEROX:  enough so that i noticed it

 

BillyGoatGruff:  …

 

BillyGoatGruff:  are you jealous?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  not jealous

 

WARMACHINEROX:  it’s just

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i liked this thing we had going

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i thought maybe we could even potentially go on a date or something soon

 

WARMACHINEROX:  but now all that is gone

 

BillyGoatGruff:  you know Scott means nothing to me, right?

 

BillyGoatGruff:  he’s barely even a friend, just a co-worker that i find less annoying that the others

 

WARMACHINEROX:  hey, i’m not the one you need to convince here, Tastee Freeze

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  Hope Van Dyne is going to _murder_ you

 

BillyGoatGruff:  shit

 

BillyGoatGruff: _shit_

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i’ma dead man, aren’t i

 

WARMACHINEROX:  yeP

 

BillyGoatGruff:  but if i _do_ live, would you really want to go on a date?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  survive Hope’s wrath first, then we’ll see

 

<//>

 

Even if he wanted to, James can’t avoid Hope, since she’s the leader of their team and all.  Plus, he knows trying to avoid her would only make him look guilty of something he hasn’t done, so he doesn’t even attempt it.  

 

When they run drills in the afternoon, it’s easy to tell she’s singling him out, not pulling her punches as much as most of them normally would for “practice”.  

 

“Christ, Wasp, what’s your problem today?” Sam says when she takes an unnecessary swing as the simulation is ending.  She definitely would have broken James’ nose if he was a regular human.

 

“This doesn’t concern you, Sam,” she says coolly.  

 

“If it affects the team dynamics, it concerns all of us,” Steve says, poking his nose into their business too.  

 

“I’m still the leader of this team, Rogers, and I will continue to be the leader of this team for however long the council decides.  And considering the dearth of other _qualified_ candidates,” Hope says, looking him up and down purposefully, “It’s going to be a while.  Barnes, a word,” she adds, jerking her head toward the gym doors.

 

“Wow, that smackdown was hot...” Scott stage whispers to Bobbi.  “...What’s ‘dearth’ mean?”

 

Bobbi just gives him a look and drags him with her to the omega lockers.  

 

James follows Hope outside as instructed.  Steve makes a move like he wants to follow, but James gives him a frown and says, “Mind your own business, punk.”  Steve doesn’t look happy about it, but he doesn’t follow either.

 

Hope rounds on James in the hallway.  “You get one chance, and one chance _only_ to explain yourself.”

 

James rubs his nose, as if pointing out that she’s obviously already drawn her conclusions.  “There isn’t anything to explain. Scott has to go _somewhere_ when you kick him out,” he adds with a shrug.  

 

Hope gives him a look that’s part pitying, which is his first indicator that he’s read this situation all wrong.  

 

“James, I have never once kicked Scott out.  He’s a moron, don’t get me wrong, but I love him and I wouldn’t do something like that to him.  He just tells you guys that because he knows none of you would put up with hanging out with him otherwise.  He’s an omega, James, he _needs_ to feel included.”

 

And suddenly James feels like shit, when he was all worked up to be on the defensive, because he _knows_ she’s not wrong…  “Uh, sorry?” he says, wincing a little.

 

Hope doesn’t let up on him though.  “And if you think you can make a move on him because I’m a bitch and he’s vulnerable, you’ve got another thing coming,” Hope tells him.  “Not that I’m not a bitch, or that he isn’t vulnerable, but it’s not in the ways you think.”

 

“Uh, I don’t want your man, Hope.  We were just up playing Wii sports all night, and he fell asleep sitting on the floor.”

 

Hope gives him a flat look.  

 

“He had his back against the couch, and I was sitting _on_ the couch, and he kind of slumped toward my legs, and I thought it would be rude to just get up and let him fall face first onto the carpet, so I didn’t move,” James says, crossing his arms over his chest.  

 

“And what about you thinking he would make a good _pet?”_ Hope asks, staring him down fiercely.

 

James drops his arms, going a little pale at the mention of her knowing about _that_ conversation, just because of how it suddenly _does_ make all of this look like she says...

 

“This entire training facility is monitored, James, you know that.  And when the Council finds any footage that they deem worth review, they send it to me as team leader.  Including the Winter Soldier speaking in Russian and issuing threats.”

 

James scrubs a hand through his hair.  “I only said that to get Natasha to leave me alone, because I knew it would freak her out and she would withdraw from the situation at the ‘earliest convenience’.  I swear to god, I’m not trying to make a move on Scott.  I actually have a- uh, someone I’m seeing...” James admits, stumbling a little over his words.

 

Hope’s face softens, just a little, and she sighs, putting her hands on her hips.  

 

“Look, I know you’ve had one foot out the door ever since you got here, James, and I think that’s part of the reason Scott feels like he’ll be ‘helping’ if he gets you to warm up to him a little.  Plus, you know, the whole ‘everybody loves Bucky’ thing…  If he could win you over, then everyone else would want to include him more too…  But even now that you’re definitely much more ‘friendly’ with him, you still seem like you’re ready to bolt at any moment, and it isn’t helping with team integration at all,” Hope lays out for him.

 

“Jesus, my psych eval isn’t due for another two months...” James mutters.  

 

Hope raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“Look, it isn’t Scott, ok?  Scott’s fine.  He’s the least annoying guy on the team, but that doesn’t make me want to put up with the rest of them if I don’t have to,” James admits.

 

“James,” Hope says, looking him right in the eye, “Scott is _never_ the least annoying person in _any_ situation…”  

 

James looks away, not wanting to talk about the conclusion her scrutiny is about to bring.  

 

“You know, there are other superhero teams out there…  If things are that bad that you think _Scott Lang_ is the least annoying person here, then maybe that says more about your other teammates than it does about Scott,” Hope tells him.  

 

“You sure talk down about him a lot, for someone who claims to love him, “ James says, purposefully ignoring her theory.  

 

“I’m attracted to dumbasses.  It’s a thing.  A thing I’ve learned to live with over the years.  And Scott’s a superhero dumbass, he’s like my kryptonite,” Hope says calmly.

 

James isn’t sure if she’s joking or not.  

 

“I’m not attracted to dumbasses, just for the record,” James informs her, “I actually _like_ meeting people smarter than me.”

 

“You know what that means, though, don’t you?” Hope asks, her eyes lit up with mischief, _“You’re_ the dumbass.”

 

“Hope, your boyfriend once asked me what the spanish word for ‘tortilla’ was.  Trust me, we aren’t on the same level,” James snorts.

 

They both chuckle for a second over that.  

 

“Seriously though, James, if you decide you do need to transfer, for your own health, I’ll approve it.”

 

James nods, but he doubts it would help.  “I’m afraid he’d just follow me…  Might as well stay put for now.”

 

Hope nods.  

 

“I don’t suppose you and Scott would want to swing by and hang out this weekend?...” James asks, wanting to verify that they’re all on the same page now.

 

“I’ll let Scott know you invited us,” she says approvingly.

 

<//>

 

“We brought chimichangas!” Scott says excitedly as soon as James opens his door, coming right in.  “After Deadpool kept going on and on about them during our last mission, I totally started craving them.  We brought salsa too, the good stuff from that taco truck on Division St, not the store-bought kind.”

 

Hope gives James a conspiratorial smile as she hands over a heavenly smelling beg that must have three or four dozen chimichangas in it.  

 

“Peace offering,” she says, not breaching his doorway until James gives her a ‘get in here’ motion with his head.  

 

James isn’t one to put much stock in the old school rules of alpha interaction, aka posturing, but he does appreciate the consideration she displays when entering his “territory” for the first time.  And he appreciates the chimichangas.

  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

BillyGoatGruff:  I lived :)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  *choir sings*

 

WARMACHINEROX:  guess that means you get that date then

 

BillyGoatGruff:  yeah?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  if you want

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i do

 

BillyGoatGruff:  definitely

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i guess i was afraid you might have been joking in the moment…

 

WARMACHINEROX:  nah

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i think it’s pretty well established at this point that you can control yourself and not get ‘lost in the pheromones’ like some alphas

 

WARMACHINEROX:  so yeah, real, in-person communication is on the table

 

BillyGoatGruff:  amazing :)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  have dinner with me?

 

WARMACHINEROX:  yes

 

WARMACHINEROX:  i’d love to :)

 

BillyGoatGruff:  excellent

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i won’t let you down

 

WARMACHINEROX:  lol

 

WARMACHINEROX:  that’s not what i’m worried about

 

<//>

 

They meet in St. Louis, deciding to forgo another trip to Oklahoma.  Tony is wearing jeans and a t-shirt that says “Ask me about my flux capacitor” this time.  He keeps the shades though, because he doesn’t do public spaces without them.

 

James isn’t holding any signs.  His hair is tucked under a slouch beanie and he hasn’t shaved today, giving him just enough stubble to be noticeable.  

 

“So this is what passes for casual with you these days?” Tony asks as soon as they get within earshot of each other, “You look like you just walked off a Calvin Klein shoot...and not one of the twink ones,” Tony adds, eyeing him up and down.  

 

“I thought twink was a slur?” James asks.

 

“Not so much, anymore.  It’s kind of like the ‘N’ word, you can say it if you’re part of the group reclaiming it,” Tony informs him, “Are, or, _were_ , in this case, either way.”

 

James smiles at him like he can definitely picture the twink Tony used to be.  

 

Tony rolls his eyes, but it’s in good humor.  “Seriously with the CK, though, are they giving you a kickback to advertise for them or something?”  

 

“No…  Is it not supposed to be a whole outfit?”

 

“Not, uh...not really?  I mean they do totally market their stuff that way, of course they do, but…  Usually you would mix it up a little, wear the Calvin Klein jeans with a shirt from Gucci…  And- you’re trolling me, aren’t you?” Tony realizes mid fashion advice.

 

James chuckles, his eyes lit up with mischief.

 

“You did not dress yourself up like a walking Calvin Klein billboard just to get a reaction from me with that line,” Tony admonishes, shaking his head, but he’s grinning widely at the absurdity of this alpha.  

 

“Maybe.  Don’t feel bad though, I did the same thing to Natasha and she didn’t speak to me for a week afterward.  It was great,” James confesses.

 

“Really?  You got _her_ with that too?” Tony asks, like he isn’t quite sure if he should believe it, but he wants to.  

 

“Babe, I _trained_ her.  And she isn’t anywhere near as good as she thinks she is,” James shakes his head.  

 

“Huh, I would think her ‘highly specialized skill set’ would be right up that alley…” Tony comments.

 

“Well, you know what they say, specialization is best left to the insects,” James counters, “Get too specialized, and you stop being able to see the big picture...”

 

“Like that you’ve been out of cryo for over a decade, would have still known the basics of dressing yourself even in the 40’s, and are a giant troll,” Tony supplies, stepping in closer.

 

“Exactly,” James grins.  

 

“I’ll remember to keep that in mind.”

 

They decide to risk it and hold hands while they walk through the airport.  

 

James takes him out for burgers and shakes.  When they sit down with their food, they both pop the lids off their shakes at the same time to dip their fries in them.  James _beams_ while Tony just blushes a little and keeps eating.  Tony’s shake is vanilla where James’ is chocolate though.  

 

“I hope I won’t get excommunicated for dipping them in a _chocolate_ shake,” James jokes.

 

“That’s allowable now, since the French Fry Reformation in the 90’s, so you lucked out,” Tony replies, as the sole expert of their food religion.  

 

“Yeah, I guess I did,” James answers a little too softly to be talking about the food.  

 

“Well, don’t forget it and we won’t ever have a problem,” Tony says casually, because he’s done with being taken advantage of at this stage in his life.

 

“I won’t,” James promises, knowing exactly what they’re really talking about.

 

“You know, I’ve never seen anyone order double extra pickles on a burger before,” Tony says to keep the conversation going, steering them away from the heavy topics for now.  

 

“I do love pickles…  And that’s no joke.  I once ate an entire Costco sized jar of them, like a whole gallon in one sitting.  Then I drank the juice afterward.  Scott nearly had a heart attack,” James reminisces.

 

Tony lets James see every bit of his own horrified expression.  “I want a divorce,” he says, deadpan, then shudders in revulsion.  He plays it up as much as he can, making a fake gagging noise at the same time too.

 

“We’d have to be married before we could get divorced,” James says easily, pointing a fry at him.  

 

“Good luck getting anyone to marry you with pickle breath,” Tony retorts, grabbing James’ wrist and stealing the fry from him with a mischievous smile, letting him know they’re still just joking around.  

 

James watches Tony chew for a second, his eyes on Tony’s mouth as he says, “No pickle breath, got it.”

 

<//>

 

Before they part ways again, James asks Tony if a kiss would be too much too soon.  

 

Tony shakes his head no, that it wouldn’t.

 

James does not taste like pickles.  

 

<//>

 

He never says anything, but Tony knows that “avenging” doesn’t pay a rockstar salary under the UN.  So after a month of meeting up at different points all over the country, Tony informs James that he’ll just send the jet for him, or fly out to California himself when they have a date.  

 

“Actually, I might have agreed to become a real Calvin Klein model?...” James tells him.

 

“What?” Tony asks, the apparent non sequitur making total sense to him.

 

“Uh, someone took a picture of me in line to pick up our order on our first date?  They posted it on Instagram and a guy at Calvin Klein recognized me, then I got a call from this marketing executive a couple days later…”

 

“And you said yes?”

 

“Yeah?  The money’s good for not hardly doing any work…  At least, not _dangerous_ work…”

 

“Hm, you definitely have the ass for it,” Tony comments.

 

“So I’ve been told.  But yeah, I appreciate you trying to spare my pocketbook, babe, but I’ll be fine,” James assures him.  

 

“As long as this isn’t some alpha run-around thing to keep from having to get assistance from your omega…” Tony says.  

 

“It’s not,” James says seriously, cupping Tony’s cheek and running this thumb over it.  “I’m sorry you’ve had to put up with so much bullshit in your life, Tony…  You know I’ll never mind if you come to California to see me, or if you send your jet to pick me up.  It doesn’t make me any less of an alpha to get a ride from you,” James says adamantly.  He doesn’t tease Tony about having called himself James’ omega, the mood is too serious for that.  Instead James just pulls him close and holds him for a long minute, relishing the slip of phrase.

 

<//>

 

Because he has never once left well enough alone, Steve manages to get enough signatures from the team to petition the council for a hearing on their ‘structure’.  

 

James doesn’t sign it.  He considers playing dumb and pretending that he doesn’t get what Steve’s at, but it would be a stretch.  Instead he just flat out refuses, saying he likes the organization just how it is.

 

“But it would only benefit you if Hope wasn’t in charge anymore,” Steve argues, not wanting to believe James’ answer is final, “Especially after she attacked you at practice that one time.”

 

“The last I checked, I was the one who got to decide what was best for me, Steve.  In fact, I seem to remember arguing with you about who got to decide what was best for me once before, and it ended with you leaving Wakanda in a huff.   _And_ _,_ the point of practicing _is_ to attack each other,” James retorts, barely stopping himself from adding an “you idiot” in there, “You think the bad guys are just going to stop punching us if we tell them their time is up?”

 

“This is different than that, Buck, _James_ ,” Steve corrects himself for the thousandth time, ignoring James’ question back to him.

 

“It’s really not,” James insists.  “Look, we were friends for a long time, Steve, so listen to me when I say this.  You’re an excellent soldier, but a terrible leader.  I’m not signing it.”

 

Steve gets the numbers he needs even without it though.  Apparently the only people he wasn’t able to convince to sign were James, Scott, and obviously Hope herself.  James would have assumed that Hope would be livid, but she just rubs her temple and sighs, like it’s nothing she didn’t expect.  

 

James keeps Tony apprised of the drama as it unfolds, whining to him about his life being a soap opera when all he wants is some goddamn peace and quiet.

 

WARMACHINEROX:  careful there Winter Wonderland, you’re actually starting to sound your age

 

WARMACHINEROX:  :P

 

BillyGoatGruff:  dang whippersnappers

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ;P

 

<//>

 

When the date of the petition hearing rolls around, their whole team has to go to the UN building in New York to be interviewed.  James plans on being completely honest when answering their questions, even if it makes Steve look bad. They’re way past the point of covering for each other out of nostalgia.  He knows the truth of the matter is that the team functions and performs excellently under Hope’s command, and he’s sure that will be the council’s finding too.

 

They bring in Steve’s group first.  

 

James knows that they’ll have the leaders of the other superhero teams present, because a _forced_ change in leadership on one team could affect all of them if they have to interact on the field.  The other team leaders don’t have as much say as the Council themselves, but their opinions are certainly taken under advisement.

 

Which means King T’Challa will be in attendance today, which means he’ll have the Dora Milaje with him…  James figures it’ll take at least a few minutes for them to hear Steve’s _grievances_ , so he makes a quick trip down to the lobby while they’re waiting their turn.

 

Inside the assembly hall, Steve presents his case, which consists entirely of minor inconveniences and personal preferences in the way things are done.  None of it is life threatening, or even reputation damaging for the team.  Half the gathered council members look like they’re having their patience tried, and the other half look like they’re mad about having their time wasted.  The leaders of the other teams don’t look too happy either.

 

Tony may not be the leader of their team, Rhodey is, but he can view everything that’s going on through the live feed that records all Council sessions for transparency's sake.  It’s awesome, because he gets to see the look on Steve’s face when Queen Nakia tells him that she wouldn’t trust him to lead her wait staff, let alone a superhero team.  Tony doesn’t even have to try and keep a straight face himself.  He’s free to laugh and laugh and laugh as much as he wants.

 

“Let the record show that it was against Wakanda’s recommendation that Mr. Rogers was ever given the lead in a team before, and our objection remains now,” the Queen states firmly.  The rotation of voting members means that Wakanda is one of the countries on ‘active duty’ for these kinds of issues right now.  T’Challa nods in agreement where he’s standing with the other team leaders, having clashed plenty with Steve on the Accords and on “ _Bucky”_ over the years.  

 

“Mr. Roger’s only complaint of significance is the training incident mentioned at the end of his...speech,” the representative from Canada says.  

 

“We concur,” the South African representative says, “And I motion that we dismiss the rest of the aforementioned grievances as irrelevant to this session.”

 

“I’ll second,” the rep from Nicaragua chimes in right away.  “Let it also be noted, for the record, that even if the Council does decide to take disciplinary measures against Ms. Van Dyne after investigating the training incident, one reprimand is not enough to remove a successful leader from the chain of command.”  She seems to take a bit of pleasure from the sour look on Steve’s face when she explains that.

 

“Can we bring in the rest of the West Coast Avengers team now?  Thank you,” the Nicaraguan rep says as one of the guards goes to fetch them.  

 

When James enters the room behind Hope, he has a double set of Starbucks’ drink carriers in his arms.  Scott is carrying another one as well, trailing behind him.

 

To the right of T’Challa, Okoye’s lips quirk into the barest, slightest glimpse of a smile.  

 

With a grin, James nods to the sitting Council members and goes about distributing drinks to the Dora Milaje, remembering every one of their usual orders to a “T”.  He saves Okoye for last, bending his head a little as he says, “Grande, iced, upside-down, caramel macchiato?” while offering it to her.

 

She accepts it gracefully.  

 

James grins and goes back to Hope’s side.  He stops Scott from trying to fling the empty drink carriers into the trashcan like frisbees along the way.  

 

“It has been brought to the Council’s attention that there was a minor incident during one of the team’s training sessions that may have been in relation to a personal vendetta carried out by Ms. Van Dyne,” the Canadian representative explains.

 

Steve frowns when he adds in the word “minor”.  

 

James frowns to be hearing about this right now at all, because he never filed a complaint.  

 

“Ms. Van Dyne, would you please give us your version of the events on the aforementioned date?”  

 

Hope is completely honest with them, admits to the late hit as the session was ending, and that it was motivated by her belief that James was making a move on her omega.  

 

Scott practically squawks beside them, looking from Hope to James and back again like he had no idea that any of this was going on.  

 

“After we removed ourselves from the adrenaline of the situation, Sergeant Barnes and I discussed things and realized that we had both misunderstood where the other was coming from, and resolved to execute a more focused team building exercise involving the affected members of the miscommunication,” Hope explains professionally.  

 

“We did what now?” Scott asks, looking bewildered.  

 

“You guys came over to my place and brought chimichangas, remember?” James elbows him.  

 

“Oh yeah…   _Oh_ _,_ right, the _team building exercise_ _,”_ he says too loudly, finally catching on.  

 

James looks up at the ceiling, like he’s praying to god for strength, but in actuality he knows there’s a camera up there and that to any certain someone watching it would look more like a plea for help to them directly.  

 

Tony chuckles as he watches his screen, finding James’ situational awareness way more attractive than he probably should.  

 

“So the matter was resolved peacefully through proper communication?” the representative from South Africa asks.  

 

“Yes,” both Hope and James say at the same time.  

 

“Why didn’t you say anything then?” Steve pipes up, turning to look at James.

 

“I told you from the beginning that it wasn’t any of your business, _that’s_ why,” James sighs.  

 

“But-” Steve is interrupted by a loud slurping sound from the side of the room.  One of the Dora Milaje is already finishing her drink.  She continues unconcerned, not apologizing in the slightest for the interruption.  

 

When she’s done and Steve starts to try and speak again, a different one of T’Challa’s bodyguards is coincidentally just finishing her iced coffee as well.  

 

The third time Steve opens his mouth, Okoye herself slurps on her iced macchiato loudly enough that you can’t hear a thing of what he was trying to say.  

 

“Is that really necessary?” Steve sighs, sounding put out and staring straight ahead, not even looking in the Dora’s direction.  

 

Okoye stares him down, even though he won’t look at her, as she deliberately shakes the ice in her cup, re-slurps at it, and shakes it some more every time he tries to speak.  

 

Not a single Council member calls her or any of them out on it.  

 

When she is finally, completely out of not-casual ways to undermine Steve, James speaks up instead.

 

“What part of ‘none of your business’ do you not understand Steve?” he asks.  

 

“I’m just worried about you, that’s all, is that such a horrible thing?” Steve counters.

 

“It is when you use your worry as an excuse to try and make decisions for me,” James sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.  God, he’s so tired of this.

 

“I’m not trying to make decisions for you, I’m just trying to help,” Steve argues.

 

“With the end effect of having made decisions for me.  So am I just supposed to believe that you’re stupid enough to have the same unintended consequence keep happening over and over again even though you don’t ‘mean’ for it to, Steve?  Because this isn’t the first time and I know I’m not lucky enough for it to be the last,” James says, agitated enough that it’s coming out in his scent.

 

“If I may interject,” Thor raises his hand politely.  As the leader of his own team, he has a spot standing with the others, even though the few Asgardian refugees on earth aren’t considered a country and thus have no seat at the UN.

 

Thor usually brings good points to a discussion, because of his age and everything he’s learned in dealing with other cultures and species.  

 

James gives him a nod, indicating he’s fine with it.  The representative from Canada nods as well.

 

Thor walks up to the Council’s table, picking up one of the glasses of water spread out there for them.  “May I?” he asks, receiving permission in the form of another nod.  He takes the glass over to Steve and hands it to him.  

 

Confused, Steve accepts it, but he tells Thor, “I’m not really thirsty…”  

 

“That is fine, friend Steven.  I believe you would call this an ‘object lesson’, it is something my love, Jane, taught me during one of our first interactions,” Thor smiles fondly at the memory.  

 

Steve nods along.

 

“Alright, take the glass and smash it on the ground,” Thor instructs, making the motion with his own arm.

 

Steve raises an eyebrow.  

 

“Go ahead.  Smash it,” Thor insists.  

 

The council members look a little wary.  “I’m sorry, Mr. Odinson, but I’m going to have to ask you to explain yourself,” the Nicaraguan rep says.  

 

“It sometimes takes real destruction to get through to someone with a thick head, and my head was the thickest of any to ever set foot on this planet, so the lesson should work well for friend Steven as well,” Thor explains.

 

“I’d like to see where he’s going with this,” Stephen Strange speaks up, the current magical adviser to the UN.  “If the council agrees, I can project a transparent field to nullify the risk of any flying glass.”

 

Their concerns dealt with, the council gives Thor the ok to proceed.  

 

“Please, Steven, go ahead,” Thor says with a small bow and extending of his hand.  

 

Steve gives a little huff, rotating the glass in his fingers.  “If this is about ‘putting things back together’, you probably should have picked a different analogy.”

 

“Humor me,” Thor says, his smile never wavering.  

 

Steve shrugs, then lifts the glass up and throws it toward the ground, hard enough to shatter it completely.  Then he looks up and gives Thor a raised eyebrow over the puddle of water and shards at his feet.

 

“Now, tell it you’re sorry.”

 

Steve has a look on his face like he’s the one humoring Thor when he says, “I’m sorry” emotionlessly.  

 

“Now, examine the glass,” Thor says, making a motion toward the mess.

 

Steve is incredulous, and it shows on his face, but he goes ahead and looks down at the shattered glass.  “What am I looking for, exactly?” he asks.

 

“The change wrought by your words of apology, of course!” Thor says jovially, clapping Steve on the shoulder.  

 

Steve’s face shifts just slightly.  He looks up at Thor.  Thor nods, as if agreeing with Steve’s burgeoning understanding.  Then he strides away, heading back to the council’s table.  He passes through Dr. Strange’s magical barrier and picks up another glass.  He brings it back to Steve and hands it to him.

 

“Now, smash it against the ground,” Thor says, his voice not quite as exuberantly pleasant as before.  

 

Steve looks at him long and hard, but in the end he obeys and smashes it.  

 

“Now apologize,” Thor instructs him again, his voice carrying a thread of steel even for how soft it is.  

 

A muscle in Steve’s jaw clenches and unclenches as he says, “I’m sorry,” again.  

 

Thor gives him a smile, motioning toward the ground.  As Steve bends his head with the pretense of examining it, Thor leaves again to get another glass from the table.  He hands it to Steve without a word.  Steve looks contemplative, but he smashes it as well.

 

They go through every glass on the table, six in all.  

 

There’s a small lake forming on the marble tiles.  

 

“Now, friend Steven, did you come here today with the express purpose of breaking six glasses?” Thor asks him.

 

“What?  Of course not,” Steve answers.

 

“But you still did.  And not even all at once, but in six separate incidences.  None of which were affected by your apologies.  You might say that your breaking of these glasses was an unintended consequence of this Accords session.  But that still doesn’t mean that it was not your hand that broke them.  So, perhaps, if you wished not to be known as a man who breaks glasses, you should stop looking for something else to blame your actions on, stop thinking that saying ‘sorry’ fixes things, and simply stop smashing glasses,” Thor explains.

 

Steve doesn’t say a word.  

 

Finally Thor turns away from him and addresses the Council, insisting on cleaning up the mess himself, because as the person in charge of the lesson, the damages are ultimately his responsibility.  Steve doesn’t offer to help, he just stands there at parade rest the entire time, looking contemplative.

 

Watching from his monitor, Tony knows that’s going to be a mark against him in Steve’s psych profile.  It’s especially damning because Thor even made mention of the “leading the lesson” thing, and it still didn’t click.  The only thing Steve could possibly do to show the Council that he _gets it_ at this point would be to speak up and withdraw his petition voluntarily.  But he doesn’t.  The Council even gives him a few moments of silence after Thor is done with the glass, but there’s nothing.  

 

It’s a different kind of sadness Tony feels in that moment, seeing Steve’s face.  

 

He looks away and focuses back on James instead, who’s waiting patiently off to the side with Hope and Scott.  

 

The Council delivers their verdict, which is to caution, but not reprimand Hope, to caution Steve for improper use of procedure, and to fine Thor for the cost of six glasses.  

 

“A sum I will glad pay from my own personal funds, as this was not an Asgardian or team related exercise,” Thor concurs.  

 

With that, the session is adjourned, but to James it still doesn’t feel like things were resolved at all.  

  
  


 


	8. Chapter 8

BillyGoatGruff:  it’s a shame i can’t go to the fundraiser with you :(

 

WARMACHINEROX:  it won’t even be that dangerous

 

BillyGoatGruff:  ???

 

BillyGoatGruff:  i meant because i would make great arm-candy for you

 

BillyGoatGruff:  being a model and all ;)

 

WARMACHINEROX:  lol

 

WARMACHINEROX:  now that IS a shame

 

<//>

 

James and Tony are making out in a nondescript Audi when James pulls back from their kiss just enough to say, “Anytime you decide you want to see my place, all you have to do is say so, ok?  This is me offering, but I don’t want to push…”  Then he goes back to kissing Tony slowly and passionately.

 

“You can push a little,” Tony says, keeping James close, “If I don’t like something, I’ll push back.”  

 

“I’d really like to get my mouth on you,” James says huskily.  

 

“Fuck yes,” Tony responds, a little breathless from the arousal that runs through him at the prospect.  

 

“Yeah?  Would you let me suck you off right here?” James asks, nuzzling just below Tony’s ear.  

 

“Please,” Tony answers, taking James’ hand and moving it down to the zipper of his pants.  

 

With deft fingers, James gets his fly undone and underwear gently moved aside.  With a content hum, he takes a deep breath of Tony’s scent, basking in the fact that Tony’s arousal is for him.  

 

“You really are an alpha, aren’t you?” Tony chuckles a little at the instinctual display, running his hand through James’ hair as the man rubs against him.  

 

James beams up at him, then puts his mouth on Tony’s dick.  

 

Tony hasn’t gotten head in the backseat of a car in many, many years, and he doesn’t remember it being quite this mind blowing before.  Of course, he’s never been with anyone who smelled as heavenly as James does either, soulmates or not.

 

“Jesus,” Tony pants, laying limply in his seat afterward.  “Give me a sec, then I am _totally_ reciprocating.”

 

“I’m kind of…  Would you mind just giving me a hand?  I’m ready to fucking blow, sugar, you taste so goddamned good,” James growls in his ear.  

 

“Yeah, I can do that,” Tony smiles as James undoes his own zipper.  The alpha straddles him, crowding Tony against the back of the seat in a display of dominance.  Tony lets him, reaching for the sizable erection James is sporting and beginning to stroke the man off.  

 

“Is this alright?” James asks, pressing himself against Tony more thoroughly for a second.

 

“We’re good,” Tony grins, loving the feel of James above him, pushing all the right instinctual buttons inside him, “Are you going to come for me like this?  Come all over me?” he asks cheekily.

 

James groans and starts spurting into Tony’s hand.  He wasn’t kidding about being on edge already.  Thankfully Tony is going straight back to his plane after this, where he has extra clothes on hand.  If he shows up on the tarmac _reeking_ of satisfied alpha, his flight crew knows better than to say anything.  

 

<//>

 

“I’m sorry, can we open a window or something?” Tony says, unable to get over his mild agitation.  

 

James blinks, then gives him a slow grin.  He does get up and open the window as requested though.  “You want me to set up a fan, to air it out quicker?” he offers politely.

 

Tony huffs, going over and putting himself into James’ arms.  “No.  Maybe.  Would it be weird if I went and rubbed myself strategically all over your apartment?” he mumbles against James’ shirt.  

 

“Not weird at all.  I’d, uh, like that a lot, actually,” James admits.  

 

“You do realize I came here for the express purpose of getting fucked to within an inch of my life by your gorgeous cock, right?  So your entire apartment is _going_ to smell like me and not _Scott_ by the time we’re done, so me marking my territory beforehand serves absolutely no purpose,” Tony tells him.

 

“The smell will last longer where you mark though…” James points out.  “Hope’s scent isn’t bothering you?”

 

“She’s not an omega,” Tony says petulantly.   _“Fine._  Stupid instincts.  Sexy times will be delayed though, which seems completely counterproductive from a biological standpoint,” Tony says as he ends the hug and goes straight for James’ kitchen.  

 

James bites his tongue to suppress a laugh as Tony starts scent marking every cupboard, drawer, appliance, and chair with a grumble.  He moves around James’ entire apartment, plastering himself over furniture and rubbing the TV remote against his chest.

 

“He can keep the Wii remotes, so he knows his place,” Tony nods with authority before heading to the bathroom.  

 

James just nods solemnly, doing his absolute damnedest to keep a straight face.  He’s only ever heard of this kind of behavior from new _mates_ , but he knows his and Tony’s situation is unusual.  They’re not mates, but they’re soulmates, and James doesn’t begrudge Tony’s claim on him at all.  

 

Once he finishes the bathroom, Tony opens the door to the bedroom and lets himself in, sniffing around in inspection.  He seems to relax quite a bit as he does, because Scott’s never been in there.  He still scent marks the closet and dresser before throwing himself onto James’ bed though, rolling back and forth a little on top of it.  When he stops, he’s laying on his back in the middle, his legs parted and clothing rumpled as he props himself up on his elbows.

 

James watches him from the foot of the bed, not bothering to hide the hunger in his gaze.

 

“You ready now?” he asks, voice already gravely.

 

“Yeah.  What are you going to do about it?” Tony challenges, never once breaking James’ stare.  

 

Without looking at it, James hooks his foot around the edge of the door and swings it closed behind him.  

 

Tony shivers, keeping his legs spread invitingly as James crawls up the bed over him.  

 

“I’m going to fuck you to within an inch of your life with this gorgeous cock of mine, apparently,” James quotes with a smile just before he kisses him.  

 

Tony whines in approval as they start to explore each other’s mouths and remove each other’s clothes.  James is gentle yet forceful with him when it comes down to it.  He pins Tony against the sheets while carefully peeling off his pants with one hand.  Once he’s released, Tony turns and nuzzles at the hem of James’ shirt for permission to take it off the alpha.  They’ve both pushed and prodded at every instinctual boundary leading up to this one, to see if either of them will get lost in it and try to bond, but the results have been good.  Tony knows for a fact that he’s never let his guard down as much before as he is in this moment with James, but he doesn’t feel out of control.  He trusts James’ control as much as he does his own.

 

Once they’re naked, James growls and _rubs_ himself all over Tony, making the omega smile and preen.  

 

“Careful babe, your alpha is showing,” Tony teases, because there’s very rarely anything stereotypical about James.

 

“I’m about to show you a whole lot more of my _alpha_ ,” James teases him back, thrusting his hips against Tony.

 

Tony groans at the feeling of James’ thick length rutting against his stomach.  Every single one of his instincts is urging him to get it inside him as quickly as possible.   

 

“Please, _please_ , tell me you remembered our talk about realistic expectations?” Tony asks, as turned on as can be, but still nowhere near ready to take something the size of _James_ being shoved into him.  

 

“I remember, sugar, and I’m going to make sure you don’t feel anything but good, ok?” James nuzzles at him reassuringly.  He reaches for the bedside table as Tony nods his consent, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.

 

“I’m actually, like, 99% sure that I can’t get pregnant anymore…” Tony points out.  

 

James gives him a thoughtful look, but he doesn’t set it aside.  “I really don’t want to be _that_ alpha, you know?...”

 

Tony runs a hand soothingly over James’ arm.  “I know, babe.  I’m certainly not going to _object_ to condom use.  Honestly, I’m not sure why I even said that…”

 

“We can stop, if it’s too much,” James says, worried, “ _Accidentally_ bonding you would be just as bad, if not _worse_ than accidentally getting you pregnant.”  

 

Tony nods, taking a moment to evaluate how clear headed he feels or doesn’t.  “I think I’m alright?  I don’t feel fuzzy like _bonding_ fuzzy…  I think, maybe, it was more like it was just instinct for me to point out that I’m kind of past my prime here, before we passed the point of no return, so to speak…” Tony shrugs from his half propped up position.  

 

“Some instincts are obsolete,” James says comfortingly, cupping Tony’s cheek.  

 

“Like an appendix,” Tony offers as James leans down to kiss him.

 

“Exactly.  Now, tell me how you like to be fingered, babe, cause I haven’t done this in a while,” James admits, kissing him and uncapping the lube at the same time.  

 

“Slowly and _thoroughly_ ,” Tony says immediately, biting his bottom lip.  

 

“I can do that,” James grins.  He leans over and rubs a slicked up finger over Tony’s opening.  “How slow is slow though?” he asks, just circling and building the anticipation.  

 

“Mmm, I’d say just follow your instincts, but I already know you’re a tease, and I _do_ want to eventually get fucked tonight, so…”

 

“How about I just keep teasing you until you tell me you need to move on?” James suggests, switching the direction of the circles he’s rubbing without actually pushing in.  

 

“That works, that totally works, oh, press a little harder…  Yes, just like that,” Tony gives a huff of pleasure as James’ digit works over him.  

 

“God, I love seeing you like this,” James admits, watching Tony’s face with rapt attention.  He uses his fingers to feel his way in between Tony’s legs, never once taking his eyes off the expressions Tony makes as he’s explored.  James finally eases a finger inside at Tony’s direction, keeping the penetration slow and shallow to start.

 

Tony closes his eyes and tips his head back at the feel of it, at the feel of _James_ opening him up and putting his pleasure first.  He rocks his hips against the intrusion, making James’ finger go deeper.  “God, I could get used to this,” Tony says with a happy sigh.  He opens his eyes a sliver and says to James, “Give me another one.”

 

James eases another in beside the first, his pupils dilated with arousal as Tony works his hips back and forth against them.  Paying careful attention, he keeps the rhythm Tony has set and curves his fingers into it, pressing more firmly against the inside of Tony as he searches for the man’s prostate.  

 

“Fuck,” Tony says, knowing exactly what James is doing, “You need to get down here, come on, closer,” he instructs, making James lay half on top of him instead of kneel at his side.  James hooks his leg over one of Tony’s, as if keeping it spread, and continues fingering him while they kiss.

 

As soon as James finds Tony’s prostate, he spreads his fingers to avoid hitting it again.  

 

“Seriously?” Tony says, playing it up by whining into James’ mouth.  

 

James smiles mischievously and bites at Tony’s lip.  “You’ve got to tell me what you want, honey,” he says in an overly patient tone.  

 

Tony whines again and clings to James, rocking his hips extra hard against James’ hand a few times.  “Fuck me with another one of your fingers,” he whispers in James’ ear, proving that he’s not nearly as far gone as all the whining would make him seem.  James shivers at the dirty words and the sex filled tone, obeying right away to slide a third finger into him.

 

With a groan, Tony digs his fingertips into the meat of James’ back, holding on as he adjusts to the stretch.  “Ok, you really need to either hit my prostate or just fuck me for real now, just, _something_ ,” Tony says, squirming under him.  

 

“Shh, I’ve got you,” James says, moving his fingers again, “The way I hear it, most omegas open up nice and sweet after a good orgasm…”

 

Tony nods against him, his face buried in James’ shoulder as he starts to make little noises of pleasure each time his prostate is stroked over.  He comes with a groan while James is whispering filth in his ear and fingering him relentlessly.  James even leaves them inside afterward for Tony to squeeze down on if he wants, earning him major bonus points in Tony’s book.  

 

“Ok, I think I’m good now,” Tony finally says, his speech a little slow from post-orgasm lethargy.  

 

“You still want the rest of it?  Because we can stop right now if you want to, Tony,” James asks.  

 

“I don’t want to stop, I want to get filled up with your cock next,” Tony says, moving the leg James isn’t pinning to rub against the alpha enticingly.  

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Very much so,” Tony says, nuzzling James’ neck and letting his voice drop to a seductive whisper, “Every time I get a heat flash, I go jack off in the bathroom and imagine what your cock would feel like inside me.  I want to see if you live up to the fantasy, Snowflake, and so far you’re doing _stupendously_ _,”_ Tony trails off with a small groan.  

 

James grunts and slides his body the rest of the way into the spread of Tony’s legs.  He raises himself up enough to see Tony’s face and his opinion on the new position.

 

Tony grins and runs his hands up and down James’ chest, touching him freely and without hesitation.  James lets him, stealing a few kisses as Tony’s arousal builds again.  James has to sit back on his knees for a moment to get the condom on and get himself slicked up.  Tony spreads his legs wide and arches his back enough to bare his neck, knowing the show of submission will cater to James’ baser instincts even though it isn’t an official _presenting_ _._  

 

“Fuck,” James growls, leaning over Tony and lining himself up with the man’s opening, “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t you, sugar?”  

 

Tony bites his bottom lip and nods.  

 

James pushes into him slowly, groaning and watching as Tony’s mouth falls open and his back arches for real this time.

 

“Oh fuck.   _Fuck_ _._  Holy fuck,” Tony exclaims as he adjusts to being split in half by James’ massive length.  He clamps his legs around him, keeping James from pulling away as he gets a feel for the girth inside him.  God, he’s close to filling him up completely, so much so that when he starts moving, there’s a good chance James will bottom out with a hard enough thrust.  Tony shivers with the thought.  Not everyone likes that feeling, but Tony loves it, he loves feeling a huge cock pressing right up against his cervix as he’s knotted.  

 

“You doing ok?” James asks, mirth in his voice as he watches Tony’s shiver of anticipation.  

 

“Yeah.  Yeah I’m doing ok, but I’d be doing _fantastic_ if you started moving now,” Tony tells him, adjusting his legs so James has full freedom of movement again.  “Just a heads up, babe, it’s fine if you bottom out, just don’t do it _too_ hard, a bruised cervix isn’t a fun time,” he makes sure James understands.  

 

“So, you want me to just, _tap_ it?” James asks, rocking in and out of him in minuscule little motions to start.  It’s just enough movement to be able to tell that he used plenty of lube, while still staying mostly sheathed inside of Tony.  

 

_“ Oh_ _._  Uh, if you, think you, _can …   Oh fuck_ _,”_ Tony challenges even between gasps.  

 

“Alright, sugar, lets see how good my aim is.” James says with a grin as he pulls out for a long, full thrust.  

 

It takes James a blissful 30 seconds of experimentation to figure out exactly how to thrust to send Tony’s hands scrambling for purchase over his back.   

 

“Mark me up if you need to, sweetheart, I don’t mind,” James rumbles in Tony’s ear as the man squirms and shouts beneath him.  James sets a purposeful pace that dives deeper every third thrust, tapping against the very deepest parts of Tony just as requested.  

 

Tony gives an extra throaty exclamation every time, which eventually turn into yells that are half pleasure half frustration as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm.  

 

“Please, _please_ , stop teasing, make me come, _alpha_ ,” Tony begs, his body taunt and ready to tip over the edge again with just a _touch_ more intensity…  

 

James gives it to him, going deep with every thrust and making the tip of his cock just barely bump into the end of him each time.  

 

Tony keens and holds on for dear life, his next breath coming out in a scream of James’ name as a strong, deep orgasm runs through him.  It makes his whole body lock up and tremble at once as the pleasure surges.  James buries himself inside one last time, his knot starting to swell within the constriction of Tony’s muscles.  The pressure of James’ cock against the deepest parts of him is constant now, and the slight discomfort that it brings only serves to make Tony’s omega instincts go nuts at how absolutely and completely full he is, and he orgasms again before he’s even come down all the way from the first.

 

_“ Jesus fucking Christ_ _,”_ he shouts, slightly overwhelmed and not even fully knotted yet.  

 

“You’re going to wake up all the neighbors,” James growls happily as he comes, continuing to press into Tony as deeply as possible.  Even in the haze of his own orgasm, James knows the condom prevents an actual conception, but his instincts are still telling him to make his omega come as many times as possible, to help milk all his seed out.  He reaches for Tony’s dick, stroking it at a fairly quick pace since they’re already in the heat of things.

 

Tony comes again as James strokes him off, still filled to the absolute fucking brim with his alpha’s cock and loving every second of it.  James’ knot is still expanding, and when it’s full, the pressure on Tony’s prostate is incredible.  His body keeps clenching down on it over and over, completely outside his control now, just an omega to be bred chasing its orgasm.  It’s during that fourth peak, in the most intense series of orgasms of his life, that Tony passes out.

 

He half expects to wake up bonded, or at the very least bitten and mated, just because that’s the _fear_ all omegas live with…  

 

But he doesn’t.  

 

He comes to in James’ arms with the alpha spooning him, cuddled tightly and perfectly warm against the cool air of the bedroom.  

 

There’s no bond between them.  

 

The skin on his neck is unbroken, not even bruised or indented with an aborted attempt.

 

“You awake now, sugar?  I can feel you getting twitchy,” James chuckles in his ear.

 

Tony starts crying.  

 

It’s not like ‘burst into tears’ crying, but the tears that leak out of his eyes do start picking up speed at an alarming rate.  

 

“Tony?  Shit, are you ok?  Did I hurt you?” James asks immediately, springing half up into a protective crouch over him.  

 

“I’m ok,” Tony manages to say in between the tears, feeling like an idiot but unable to stop them just yet.  James, unsurprisingly, doesn’t look convinced.  “Just keep holding me, ok?” Tony huffs, pulling at James’ arm to wrap it back around him.  

 

“Are you sure?  Please, tell me if I did something wrong, Tony.  I really need to know that you’re going to be ok right now,” James says, an obvious reference to his own urge to _protect_ that’s quickly coming to the forefront.

 

“It’s what you didn’t do, ok?  Nothing bad,” Tony tries to explain, burying his face against James’ chest.  It actually helps some, James’ scent, because now he associates it even more with trust and safety than he already did before.  

 

“I…  I don’t understand,” James admits, but he holds onto Tony as requested, rubbing his back as the tears start to dry up.  

 

“It’s not-  I wouldn’t have slept with you if I thought you would bond or mate me against my will, ok?  I absolutely did not think that, James,” Tony says, using his real name so he knows this is serious, “But it’s _the thing_ _,_ you know?  For omegas.  That’s the biggest fear, waking up after passing out for any reason, whether it’s drinking or drugs or mind blowing sex...that you’ll wake up and realize you were mated by someone against your will while you weren’t able to defend yourself…  And I just, woke up, and I had that split second of, ‘oh shit’, you know?  But then I remembered it was you, and there was no bond, even though we’re soulmates, and there was no bite, even though our instincts were running through the fucking roof there, and I just, I love you so much, ok?” Tony says, still hiccuping a little as he tries to explain it.  

 

“...  I love you too, Tony, so much,” James says as he gives him an extra squeeze while he continues to hold him.  He seems a little down though, so Tony nuzzles at his jaw in question, like he wants to know they’re still alright.  

 

“Hey, it’s ok, honey, I _do_ understand,” James assures him, “It’s just...sometimes the things you say make me want to burn the world down and start over.”

 

“No going super villain without me,” Tony says immediately, clinging to James more tightly.  

 

“Ok, Tony, not without you,” James answers, snuggling as close as possible.

 

They lay in each other’s arms for a while, intending to doze back off, but Tony is, as James described, twitchy, and he’s keeping James from resting too with all his moving around.  

 

“You want me to wrap you up?” James offers, nosing at Tony’s hair as he tries to get comfortable for the dozenth time.  

 

“Wrap me up?” Tony asks quizzically.

 

“Yeah.  Do people not do that anymore?...” James asks.

 

Tony squints at him suspiciously.  “Is this another one of those ‘Calvin Klein as an entire outfit’ things?”

 

James frowns.  “What?  No, this isn’t a joke.  Sometimes omegas get twitchy after being knotted...so you wrap them up and it helps, uh, settle them?” James trails off, seeing the look on Tony’s face.  

 

“You want to put me in a _killing cocoon_ _?”_ Tony says.

 

“A _what_ _?”_ James sounds just as dumbfounded as Tony does.

 

“Oh my god, you were cryo’d through most of the 60’s, holy shit.  Apparently whatever history recap they gave you was sorely lacking if they didn’t touch on the Cocoon Killer,” Tony says, mostly to see if the term rings any bells with him or not.  

 

James just sits there with a confused look on his face.  

 

Holy shit.

 

“Ok, so long story short, there was this serial killer in the 60’s who would seduce omegas and wrap them up tight in the sheets after they fucked, then he would stab them to death.  I mean, he killed like 20 people and they never caught him, so it became this whole admonition in society after that, ‘don’t get twisted up in an alpha’s sheets’, which of course people started using as a metaphor for other less murder-y scenarios too, so now it just kind of means not to let the sex go to your head, but the original saying was because of the Cocoon Killer,” Tony explains.  “I had no idea that was like an actual thing people really did a lot before that?...”

 

“It was…”  James looks stunned and kind of sad, but he pulls himself together.  “So no wrapping you up, got it.”

 

“Nah, it’s fine, you totally can if you think it’ll help,” Tony says, pushing the sheets toward James.  

 

“You just said only serial killers do that…”  

 

Tony waves him off.  “I trust you.  And plus, with the nano tech, I could slice through a bed sheet in a heartbeat if I needed to,” Tony reminds him.  

 

“Point,” James concedes.  He pulls the sheet free from the end of the bed and starts with Tony’s restless legs, wrapping them up tight and moving his way up Tony’s body, securing his arms bent against his chest, for ease of sleeping.  “It _is_ kind of a trust thing, too…” James admits, admiring his handiwork once the last corner is tucked in.  He lays down in front of Tony, putting his arm under the man’s head.

 

“I can see that,” Tony nods, wiggling a little.  

 

James huffs and throws a leg over his _cocooned_ form, tucking Tony’s nose in against his collar bone.  It’s perfect because it’s close enough to his scent gland to get a comforting whiff without presuming to shove Tony’s face in it.  

 

They’re both asleep in minutes.  

 

<//>

 

The next morning, James makes blueberry pancakes for breakfast and Tony eats them sitting on his lap, wearing nothing but James’ dress shirt from the night before.  He’s smug about his scent being everywhere now and doesn’t even try to hide it.

 

James is never going to wash that shirt again.

  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there's some serious second-hand embarrassment in this chapter for anyone who owns a uterus.

James’ weekly Wii tournament with Scott is the day after Tony first spends the night, but the scent hasn’t hardly dissipated at all.  

 

“Holy hell, _someone’s_ been marking their territory…” Scott says as soon as James opens the door.  Then he notices the _smile_ on James’ face.  “Oh my god, did you get _laid_ _?_  That is not just a ‘he had dinner here’ smell,” Scott says, wagging his eyebrows.

 

“None of your business...” James says, standing back to let him in, “But yeah, he, uh, _spent the night_.”

 

“That’s awesome that you guys built that trust back up,” Scott nods, giving James a pat on the shoulder.  “Oh, wait, should I not touch you anymore?  He, uh, smells like the _jealous_ type,” Scott asks, obviously referencing how completely overboard James’ beau went in scenting the place.  Something seems vaguely familiar about the scent, but Scott can’t quite put his finger on it, so he shrugs it off.  

 

“Nah, that’s ok, he was just getting it out of his system.  He’s got friends who are alphas, so he understands,” James explains.  

 

Scott beams at him and his easy reference to them as being friends.  “So how did the rest of the guys take it?  There was probably a lot of whistling and back slapping, huh?”

 

“Who knows, I haven’t spoken to any of them outside of training in weeks, not since Steve’s failed coup,” James rolls his eyes.  

 

“Oh...me neither…” Scott sighs.  

 

“I’d tell you that I hope Steve will get his head out of his ass soon, but I don’t want to give you false hope or anything,” James says.  

 

“Do you ever think about asking to be moved to a different team?” Scott wonders, “Your guy, he’s on the East Coast, right?  You’re probably thinking of moving out there anyway, aren’t you?  It would sure solve a lot of your problems…”

 

“I don’t know, I don’t want to leave you and Hope to the jackals,” James shrugs, “And it’s not like he’s _asked_ me to move out there...”

 

“Do we ever get to meet this guy?” Scott asks, tipping his head a little.  

 

James rubs the back of his neck.  “Well, uh, technically you’ve already met him a few times, but we’re keeping things quiet, because of our jobs and stuff…”

 

Scott nods, realizing that must be why the scent registers as vaguely familiar.  But then he stops nodding.  “I don’t know anyone named Edward.”

 

“That’s not his real name,” James informs him.

 

“Ohhhh, you’ve got a _secret_ boyfriend, I get it,” Scott taps the side of his nose with a grin, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”

 

“Thanks,” James replies, not about to point out that he didn’t actually tell Scott anything.   

 

“Well, if he does ever ask you to move in with him, you shouldn’t worry about me and Hope.  We can take care of ourselves,” Scott assures him.

 

James gives him a look.

 

“Ok, you’re right, I would shrink down so they couldn’t find me and wait for Hope to get there to take care of both of us,” Scott concedes.  “But still!  We’d be fine.”

 

“Well, it isn’t happening right now, regardless,” James says, turning on the Wii.  But it does stay in the back of his mind after that.

 

He still has choices.  

 

<//>

 

“I’m telling you Pep, it’s a classic case of one asshole, in this case, a murdering asshole, ruining things for all of the rest of us,” Tony says with a sigh, laying backwards on the fainting couch in the living room with his feet up on the headrest.  

 

“Being cocooned?...” she asks incredulously.

 

“Wrapped, Pep, _wrapped up_ , it doesn’t have to use the word ‘cocoon’.  We’re taking it back, goddamnit,” Tony explains, “I haven’t slept that good in _decades_.”

 

“It might have had something to do with the amazing sex before hand, too…  Besides, I thought that was only for high-strung omegas?” Pepper says, raising an eyebrow.

 

Tony gasps, offended.  “Uh, I prefer the term ‘high _maintenance’_ , Pep, you know that.”

 

<//>

 

James and Tony have been sleeping together for a few months when Tony walks in on Scott Lang throwing up in the bathrooms at the UN for a second time.  He doesn’t even try to curb his urge to _get involved_ this time, he just takes it in stride.  

 

“Too much biscoff again?” he says sympathetically as the other omega leaves his stall.  

 

“No, actually, this time I think I might be pregnant…” Scott says, looking pale.  

 

“Might be?” Tony asks back.

 

“I’ve, uh, been too scared to pick up a test…” Scott admits, fidgeting and looking like he might be about to cry.  

 

“Hey, there’s a health center specifically for omega super heroes here, you could go there without Joe Schmoe at the corner drug store plastering your purchase all over the evening news,” Tony points out.  

 

“Yeah?  Will…  Will they tell Hope?” Scott asks.  

 

“No, it’s illegal to give away your private medical information, even to your alpha,” Tony assures him, feeling concerned.  

 

“It’s not that I don’t want her to know, it’s just, I don’t want to cause a bunch of drama if i’m _not_ _,_ you know?  If I _am_ _,_ it…  It changes things…” Scott says, holding a hand over his stomach.

 

“It changes everything,” Tony agrees.  “You want me to show you where the clinic is?” he volunteers.

 

“Would you?  That would be great.  I mean, not that I can’t find it myself...” Scott says.

 

“It’s no problem, us omegas have to stick together,” Tony says, motioning toward the door.  He doesn’t bring up that it’s a shame he doesn’t have any omegas he can trust on his own team as he walks with Scott down to the basement levels.  

 

Things are a little awkward after they get him signed in at the clinic, because Tony doesn’t really have time to stick around and sit there with him.  “Well, I’ve got a meeting, so…” he says, hitching a thumb back toward the door.

 

“What?  Right, of course.  Yes.  Thanks for showing me this place,” Scott says, standing up and looking like he doesn’t know whether he should salute him or shake his hand.  

 

Tony puts him out of his misery and reaches over to pat him on the shoulder, which Scott turns into a sort of half a hug.  After having Peter in his life for so long now though, Tony’s used to awkward hugs.

 

“Good luck,” Tony tells him sincerely as he turns to head back up to the council’s floors.  

 

_“Holy shit_ _,”_ Scott says all of a sudden, making Tony turn back around briefly.  

 

He raises an eyebrow at Scott.

 

“Anthony Edward Stark,” Scott says, blinking at him.  

 

Tony blinks back for a second.  

 

“I’m sorry, did-  Did you _not recognize_ me?” Tony asks.  

 

“No!...Uh... _yes_ _?”_ Scott says, like he isn’t sure what the right answer is.  Then he presses his mouth together tightly like he’s biting his lips, staring at Tony with wide eyes.  

 

“Right…  Well, still, good luck,” Tony says, brushing off his odd behavior.  

 

The guy’s obviously going through a lot right now.  

 

<//>  

 

“Tony?...”  

 

“Tony, wake up, honey…” James’ concerned voice draws him awake.  

 

The first thing Tony notices as he’s waking up is the wet, sticky sensation between his legs.  Not the good kind of wet, but the awful, messy, crampy kind.

 

“Fuck,” he says, blinking awake the rest of the way.  He thought he was done with this crap already...  But those are definitely cramps wracking his abdomen as he feels a pulse of fluid making its way out of him.  “Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he says automatically, continuing to curse as he levers himself onto his knees.

 

“Are you ok?...” James asks hesitantly, probably never having had his bed partner _bleed_ all over the place in the night before, Jesus Christ…

 

“I’m fine.  I’m fine,” Tony says, not looking at him.  He’s only brave enough to glance at the sheets, because he needs to know just how much damage he did.  There isn’t much on them, miraculously, probably because Tony had been sleeping on his side.

 

As he’s crawling off the bed, an intense cramp hits him, and he has to stop and press his hand against it for a second.  

 

“Is there anything I can do?” James asks, his voice filling with even more concern.  

 

Tony startles at the feel of James’ hand running soothingly up and down his back.  

 

“Tony?...  Sorry, should I not have touched you?” James asks, pulling back away.  Every line of his body is radiating a nervous uncertainty.

 

“I just, uh…  Let me clean up, ok?” Tony says, coloring with embarrassment.  He doesn’t even have any underwear on to stem the tide at all, this is one of the worst scenarios he’s ever found himself bleeding in.  He hightails it to the bathroom, praying that he doesn’t drip anything on the fucking floor, and practically slams the door behind him.

 

As soon as it’s closed, Tony looks down at himself angrily, feeling stupid for forgetting that menopause can make your cycle irregular too.  Hell, he’d skipped some entirely at the beginning there, but that was before he and James were sleeping together so it didn’t give him any cause to _worry_.  

 

Tony sits down on the toilet and immediately realizes that James doesn’t have any of the moist-wipes he would normally use in this kind of situation.  Toilet paper will just shred if he tries to wipe off drying blood with it, so he’ll just have to shower instead.  But he doesn’t want to shower and get clean without having a pad ready for as soon as he gets out.  But he can’t go back out there _like this_.  

 

Frustrated, and still mortified, Tony starts tearing up, and he’s in no emotional state to suck it up and soldier on.  He doesn’t have the presence of mind to try and cry quietly either, so after less than a minute, James is knocking softly on the door.  

 

“Tony?  Are you alright?  Do- Is there anything you need?”

 

“Can you bring me my bag?” Tony asks, his voice thick.  

 

“Of course, I’ll be right back,” James assures him.

 

Tony does his best to mop up some of the active flow before he stands, then he makes his way over to the door, opening it just a crack to stick his arm through.  He feels James set the strap of his overnight bag into his palm a moment later.  Tony grabs it right away, only opening the door enough to slide it through, making sure to stay hidden the whole time.

 

“Thanks,” he says shakily as he shuts it.  

 

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” James asks.  

 

The scent of worried alpha clings to the air all around him.  

 

“I’m just going to shower, so...sorry about that, again,” Tony says, not opening the door.

 

“Ok, I’ll, um…  I’ll just wait, for you…” James says awkwardly.  

 

“Ok…” Tony says back kind of questioningly, but he doesn’t know what else to say.  It’s James’ apartment, he can do whatever he wants in it… Tony digs around in his bag until he frees an emergency pad from it’s disguised pocket, laying it out on the counter along with some underwear.  Then he turns the shower on to let the water get hot, lamenting for a second that he isn’t in his own bathroom with its never ending hot water supply.

 

His cramps are getting worse, so Tony gets in and lets the warm water run over his lower back for a minute.  It helps with the spasms, but not the embarrassment. He and James were supposed to be showering together this morning.  Tony went out of his way to clear an entire three day weekend for them to spend together, and then this happens.  Fuck his life…  

 

When he’s finally washed and clean, Tony steps out of the shower and dries off briskly, pulling on his underwear and securing a pad immediately.  He’s always been in too much pain, been too sensitive when he menstruates to be able to deal with shoving a tampon up there.

 

His fashionable jeans look supremely uncomfortable right now, and fuck it, he just bled all over his boyfriend, so he figures coming out of the bathroom in sleep pants is not a disaster.  

 

 

James stares at the bathroom door after Tony closes it, fighting with his instincts to break in there and make sure his omega is alright.  When he hears the water turn on, it helps to break the spell a little, and James takes a deep breath and a step back.  He has no idea what to do.  That…  That was a lot of blood.  He’s been injured before, seen people bleeding plenty of times, but somehow he didn’t think that when omegas went through their cycles that there was _so much_ of it…  

 

Figuring Tony will be dressed when he does come out, James goes back into the bedroom to put some clothes on himself.  Then he peels the sheets off his bed. They needed washing after last night’s activities anyway.  After that though, he’s at a loss.  Should he make breakfast like normal?  He’s heard some omegas have a decreased appetite during their cycles…  Should he pretend nothing happened?  Or will that make Tony think he doesn’t care about the obvious pain he’s in?...

 

Finally James picks up his phone, pulls up his incredibly sparse contacts, and calls the only other omega in there besides Tony.

 

“Hey, Scott?  I need your help.  It’s an emergency.  An omega emergency?”

 

“An omega emergency?” Scott asks, the frown palpable in his tone, “Is someone pregnant?”  

 

“Pregnant?  No, uh, actually, the exact opposite of that…  He, uh, _Eddie,_ was spending the night, and started his cycle?” James winces at his own tone and how hesitant he sounds.

 

“Oh…  So what’s the problem?” Scott asks, confused.

 

“He started while we were sleeping, and we were still naked from the night before, and he’s super embarrassed, and he looks like he’s in a lot of pain too, and I don’t know what to do,” James explains, feeling like an idiot.  

 

“What did he ask you to do?” Scott wants to know.

 

“Uh, bring him his bag, to the bathroom?  And now he’s in the shower, and I’m freaking out, because what if he isn’t hungry and I make too much food, but what if he does want to eat and I don’t make anything, and he’s insulted, and thinks I’m insensitive and leaves me,” James says, his heart starting to constrict at the thought.  

 

Scott is silent for a moment.

 

“Ok, here’s what you need to do,” he says, no nonsense, “Get one of your hoodies and go put it on right now, so it has your scent on it fresh and is warm from your body heat, ok?  Then you give it to him to wear as soon as he comes out of the bathroom.”

 

“Ok, I can do that.  I’m doing that right now,” James says, heading for his closet.  

 

“Next, you get together every finger-y type food in the house, I’m talking pretzels, orange slices, cookies, _anything_ with chocolate, and you put it all out on the coffee table.”

 

“Cookies?  For breakfast?” James asks, heading for the kitchen as soon as he has the hoodie on.  

 

“Hey, do you want my help or not?” Scott says with attitude.

 

“Yes, I do.  Sorry.  So, cookies, right.  I have orange slices too…  What about baby carrots?” James asks, picking up a bag of them out of the fridge.

 

“...  Only if you have ranch to dip them in, the good ranch you make yourself with sour cream, not the salad dressing from a bottle,” Scott tells him.  

 

“Ok, yeah, I can do that…  What else?”

 

“Do you own a heating pad?” Scott asks.

 

“I think so?”

 

“Get it out and plug it in near the couch.  Do you have any tylenol or ibuprofen?” Scott asks next.

 

“No…  I’m a super soldier…”

 

Scott sighs into the phone.  “Ok, maybe he’ll have some of that on hand himself…  But make sure you set some water out with the snacks, so he can take whatever he has.”

 

“Ok, I’ve got some bottled water,” James grabs a couple and sets them on the coffee table too.  

 

“Once you have all that ready, turn on the TV and cue up a good romcom, like Sleepless in Seattle or You’ve Got Mail,” Scott tells him.

 

“Not everyone loves Tom Hanks as much as you do, Scott,” James says with a roll of his eyes.  

 

“Blasphemy!  These are _romcoms_ we’re talking about here, you need to make a classic, old school, _good first impression.”_

 

“Ok, ok, ‘You’ve Got Mail’ it is,” James assures him.

 

“And if he asks you to go to the store to pick him up any pads or tampons or anything, you don’t balk at all, you just ask what brand and what style he likes, you understand?  And you snuggle him up in the hoodie and a nice soft blanket before you go, and you do not touch any other omegas while you’re out.  Not that most would, with the way you’re going to smell, but I’m just giving you a heads up,” Scott admonishes. 

 

“Got it.  Don’t be an asshole.  I can do that,” James says, nodding to himself.

 

“At least for a little while anyway,” Scott says, obviously teasing him.  

 

“Thanks, man, I owe you one for this,” James says, sighing in relief to have a game plan.  

 

“No problem.  Just remember, if you do end up going to the store, the more chocolate, the better.”

 

James spends a few more minutes after hanging up the phone puttering around and waiting for Tony to get out of the shower.   He does remember to start some coffee all on his own, which he’s proud of.  He’s pretty sure that Tony will still want his morning cup no matter what.  Finally he hears the water shut off, so James tries to casually wait for Tony’s exit without looking like he’s ready to pounce.

 

Tony takes a steadying breath, then opens the bathroom door.  “So, let me just reiterate how sorry I am, again, I guess that was pretty horrifying for you...” Tony says, barely meeting James’ eyes, “I should probably get going, so I’ll just...” he motions putting the strap of his bag over his shoulder.

 

“Get going?” James says, sounding heartbroken.  

 

That makes Tony look up, searching James’ face.  “Unless?...  I mean, the weekend’s kind of ruined, and I only have, like, just an emergency stock of _supplies_ in my bag, so, I really don’t want to risk running out,” Tony shrugs, blushing.

 

“I could go to the store and get you some more?” James volunteers.  He takes a step closer to Tony while the man looks at him in disbelief, his jaw practically hanging open.  “You look like you’re in a lot of pain, babe, you should stay here and rest, and I’ll get you whatever you need, ok?”

 

“I-  Are you sure?” Tony asks, looking at him like he’s waiting for James to laugh and say he’s just kidding.  

 

“Of course.  Here,” James says, taking off his hoodie and holding it out for Tony, “You should get comfortable.  This smells like me, so it might help while I’m gone?” James asks, as if looking for guidance.

 

Tony slowly reaches out and takes the hoodie from him, holding it and just running the feel of it through his fingers for a second.  “Actually, yeah, that probably will…  Studies show the scent of an alpha, pheromones and stuff, they can help lessen the cramping…” Tony says, venturing to look up at him hesitantly again.  

 

James reaches over and slides the strap of the overnight bag off Tony’s shoulder, slowly, so that it’s obvious Tony could stop him anytime if he wanted to.  “Let me help you with it?” he asks softly.

 

Tony nods.  

 

James helps him into the hoodie, warm and filled with his scent, and it makes some of the nervous tension in his own middle smooth out to see Tony in it too.  “Do you need me to pick up anything else?  Ibuprofen?  Chocolate?” he asks, guiding Tony over to the couch.

 

When Tony sees the spread on the coffee table, he gets tears in his eyes at the display.  “Um, sure? I don’t really have any painkillers on me…  That would be great.”

 

“Here, let me get you a cup of coffee before I go, sweetheart, that way you have everything you need until I get back,” James says, planting a kiss on his hair.  

 

“...Could you get me a phone charger from the bedroom too?...” Tony asks, tucking his legs under the blanket James laid out for him.  

 

“Of course, no problem.”

 

James makes him a cup of coffee just the way he likes it, bringing it out and setting it right into Tony’s hands.  

 

“Um, I thought you said you’ve never really watched romcoms?” Tony says, nodding toward the TV.  It has Netflix loaded and ‘You’ve Got Mail’ ready to play.

 

“Uh, I don’t?  But it was a recommendation…” James says, hoping Tony doesn’t mind.  

 

Tony gives him an indecipherable look.  “You do realize this is the exact movie I was thinking of when I was talking about us not having a _code_ for when we first met?...”

 

James raises an eyebrow.  “Uh, no?  I mean, no, I didn’t know that…  Should we pick something else?”

 

Tony shakes his head.  “It’s fine.  It’s a good movie.  One of the classics…”

 

James smiles at him.  

 

He gives Tony a kiss before he leaves, giving in to the urge to scent mark him a little too.  He leaves with a thorough list and with Tony wrapped up snugly on his couch.  Heeding Scott’s advice, he throws a few extra chocolate items into his cart while he’s at the store too.  When he gets back, Tony is still on the couch, tapping away at his phone, just as James left him.  He’s also nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie.

 

James goes straight to him and scents the hell out of him again, making Tony smile and laugh a little.  

 

“Alright, alright, what spoils have you brought me, Snowflake?” Tony chuckles, still rubbing his cheek against James in return.  

 

“I got everything on the list, plus a couple candy bars, plus some caramel popcorn drizzled in chocolate, and a chocolate cheesecake,” James says nuzzling Tony.

 

“God, I love you so much,” Tony exclaims, hugging James even closer for a moment.  

 

“Love you too, Tony…  Want to give you everything…” James whispers before kissing him, gentle and soft.  Tony melts into the kiss, but his cramping starts to get worse, so they pull apart to get painkillers administered and cheesecake dished out.  

 

“Ok, let’s see what all the fuss is about this email movie,” James says when they’re finally ready to start it.  

 

Tony smiles at him.  

 

<//>

 

Later that day, James gets a text from Scott, asking him how things are going.  

 

//Awesome.  I discovered that I’m Meg Ryan.//

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Where’s Bobbi today?” Scott asks Hope when they gather for their normal training session and the Mockingbird doesn’t show.

 

“Bobbi informed me yesterday that she’s taking an indefinite leave of absence from the team,” Hope announces to everyone.

 

“Is she transferring?” Steve asks.

 

“No.  She authorized me to let the team know that she’s pregnant, so depending on how things go, she may return, or she may not,” Hope shrugs, “That’s a decision she’ll have to make later.”

 

James sees Scott open his mouth, probably to offer congratulations judging by the happy grin on his face, when Steve speaks over him.

 

“This is exactly why a team shouldn’t include omegas,” he sighs.  

 

Everyone else kind of freezes, not knowing what to say.  Even as far as omega rights have come these days, there’s always a few alphas who still believe omegas belong in the kitchen.  But the few who do usually know better than to say it out loud.

 

James immediately looks to Scott, the only omega in the room now.  His smile is gone and he’s staring at Steve with a sad look on his face.  

 

Steve seems to pick up on the mood shift though, and he looks around, asking, “What?...”

 

“Man, you can’t say shit like that, Steve,” Sam says, like he’s trying to make light of it, “You’d have the omega’s rights activists all over your ass in a heartbeat if we were in public.”

 

“And he’d deserve to,” Hope says, her mouth a thin line of anger.  

 

“Omegas have a whole lot more to offer the world than just popping out kids,” James speaks up, giving Steve a calculated glare, “And it’s ridiculous to say it makes them unreliable just because they _could_ get pregnant.  There’s a whole host of reasons someone could quit a team that have nothing to do with having kids.  So shut your trap if you can’t learn to think about something before you speak.”

 

Steve just blinks at him.  

 

“Alright, this isn’t a counseling session, everyone take your positions,” Hope says, getting them back on track.  

 

After their training exercise is over, James makes a point to get Scott’s attention before he heads off to the omega’s lockers.

 

“Hey, do you and Hope have any plans this weekend?” he asks.

 

Scott shakes his head, still looking a little down from the previous conversation.  

 

“I was thinking maybe we could finally have that Lord of the Rings marathon we’re always talking about, but never seem to get around to…” James suggests.  

 

Scott’s face lights up.  

 

“That would be awesome, I’ll tell Hope!”

 

<//>

 

Blood isn’t an unusual thing for James to see on a mission.  

 

It _is_ unusual for him to stumble across the broken and mangled bodies of a dance class whose studio was hit in the latest super villain attack though.  

 

Said villain is still on the rampage when James just freezes, unable to look away from the blood soaked leotards and leggings, from the little girls’ hair ribbons slowly turning red.  Explosions are still going off in the background as he falls to his knees, unable to hear them anymore.

 

With him having gone completely unresponsive on comms, the team assumes the worst.  Finally Sam gets a glimpse of him from in the air, letting the rest of them know that he _looks_ unharmed…  The bad guy is almost down at that point though, so they focus on capturing him once they know James is ok.  For a given definition of ok, anyway…

 

James doesn’t register any of that.  Not the voices calling his name in his ear, not Steve yelling at him from down the block, not Natasha coming up on his right.  It isn’t until she gets in his line of vision that he realizes she’s there.  Even then, it’s like he’s locked in place, unable to move, his head full of static.  Old memories play on repeat behind his eyes, fueled by the scene in front of him.

 

_“Did I do this?_  he asks her, his Russian hoarse and too quiet for the field of battle.  

 

_“Niet_ _,”_ she says, her back stiffening just slightly.  

 

Sirens start filling the air as emergency personnel rush to the scene.  

 

_“Did **you** do this? _ he asks next, never moving his gaze off the bodies.

 

Natasha just shakes her head, as if she doesn’t trust her own voice.  

 

James sees it out of the corner of his eye, knowing instinctively that she isn’t lying.  Something about the way she’s holding herself and the fact that she’s standing here instead of having run away…  James lets her live, partly because he can’t move at all himself.

 

“Bucky!  James, are you alright?” Steve says as he runs up to him.  

 

He gets no response.  

 

“Steve, don’t.  Just give him a minute, alright?” Natasha says, visibly shaken herself.  

 

Hope pops into existence beside them a second later, with Scott following suit.  

 

“Translate,” she orders Natasha, no nonsense.

 

“He asked me if he did this, and I said no, then he asked me if _I_ did this.  I shook my head no,” Natasha summarizes, looking pale.

 

“I’m pretty sure this exact thing is the reason why he won’t watch Riverdance with me,” Scott says, taking a step toward James.  

 

Hope stops him with an arm over his chest.  “You’re not going near the Winter Soldier while he’s having a dissociative episode,” she tells him.

 

“You mean he’s in Winter Soldier mode right now?” Steve asks.

 

“No, not necessarily, though the Russian isn’t a great argument against it.  Give him some space, maybe he’ll come out of it on his own,” Hope says, not sounding hopeful.  “I’ll see if I can get Dr. Ruiz down here.”

 

“James may go to his therapy like he’s supposed to, but he doesn’t have any particularly strong connection to Dr. Ruiz,” Scott points out.  

 

“I said no, Scott,” Hope reiterates, “At least not at this point, ok?  There are other things we can try first.”

 

Scott nods, because he knows she’s just trying to protect him, not put him in any unnecessary danger.  He feels awful for James though, collapsed onto his knees and just staring at the carnage without blinking.  Emergency crews are working to clear things up and bag the bodies, and thankfully James doesn’t interfere with them or seem to get set off any further by their actions.  He just watches, motionless.

 

Steve tries to talk to him, get his attention, get some sort of acknowledgment out of him, something, but James doesn’t respond to him at all.  When Dr. Ruiz arrives, it’s much the same thing.

 

When Spiderman swings into the remnants of their battle, James tilts his head just the tiniest fraction toward him as his nostrils flare, which is more than any of the rest of them got, but James still doesn’t ever look at him and is still unresponsive verbally.  

 

“Wow, this is bad.  Like, really, really bad.  Not physically, but mentally he’s bordering on catatonic.  Ok, I’ll wait here with him,” Spiderman says, making it clear after a moment that he’s not talking to any of them.  

 

“Uh, no offense, man, but I don’t think calling in Deadpool is something that will be helpful right now…” Sam says.  

 

“What?  Oh!  Wade’s in Canada right now, something about having to renew his visa in person…  But no, yeah, he’s not the guy to call when you need as much normality as possible, I totally agree with you there,” Spiderman says, giving Sam a semi-friendly punch on the shoulder.  

 

“Wait, does anyone know how to get a hold of Eddie?  That omega he’s seeing?” Steve asks.

 

“We could probably authorize a civilian presence for an emergency situation like this,” Hope says, thinking hard.  

 

Scott turns to look at her in slow motion, positively aghast at the knowledge that she may not have figured out something that he did a while ago...  

 

“What?  The battle’s over, Scott.  By the time we tracked him down and got him out here, the crews will have secured this area.  It’s not like he’d be in an excessive amount of danger.  I’m sure Eddie wouldn’t want to see James suffer any longer than he has to,” Hope reasons.  

 

“She doesn’t know?” Spiderman says in disbelief, as if addressing the general gathering.

 

“None of them know,” Scott says, shaking his head.  

 

“Know what?” Hope says, instantly rounding on Scott, knowing he’s the weak link in pretty much any scenario.  

 

“Um…  That Eddie’s…  Not his real name?” Scott says hesitantly, looking between her and Spiderman as if asking to be backed up.  

 

“It’s about to become a moot point,” Spiderman says, tipping his head toward the southwest edge of the police barricade.  

 

A long, black limousine is rolling to a stop there, one with a vanity plate that they’re all very familiar with.  

 

“Stark.  Great.  Who called him in?  We had this handled just fine, even with James down,” Sam sighs.  

 

The man in question steps out of his limo, wearing a suit that screams “business meeting” but sunglasses that say _rockstar_ _._  As he walks over he snaps his fingers in Spiderman’s direction.  

 

“Go to the burger stand down on Sepulveda Boulevard, I saw it still standing when we drove by.  Get him a cheeseburger no onions, double extra pickles, and a chocolate shake.  You know what I like,” he orders.  

 

“Got it!” Spiderman says, saluting before he swings away on a web.  

 

“Scott, see if the EMT’s have any spare blankets on hand.  

 

Scott salutes him too and does as he’s told.  

 

“Ms. _Rushman_ _,_ get the fuck out of here.  Go.  Shoo,” Tony says, making a motion with his hand, “Seeing you isn’t going to help him, even if it’s just in his peripherals.”  

 

With her mouth in a hard line, Natasha concedes the point, glancing at Steve and then at Hope before she makes her way off the battlefield.  

 

“The rest of you, stand back and shut up,” Tony says, never stopping as he heads directly for James.  He undoes the buttons on his suit jacket with a flourish, loosening his tie and popping the button on his collar too.  

 

Steve opens his mouth and takes a step forward, but Dr. Ruiz stops him.  “James and Dr. Stark are proven to have positive reactions to each other on an alpha/omega level.  Remember when the UN was gassed?  Surely, you remember how James’ response to _your_ alpha presence ended…  Let Dr. Stark try.”

 

Steve doesn’t look happy about it, but he doesn’t have any argument against it either.

 

When Tony’s about ten steps from James he calls out, “Hey, Snowflake, I heard you were having a bad day…”

 

James’ nostrils flare, and he turns to look at the man approaching him.  His eyes are dull and lifeless for a moment, but then he blinks as Tony steps closer, right into his personal space.  

 

“There you are…  How was your day, honey?” Tony says, subtly baring his neck.  

 

“Snowflake?...” James says roughly, like he’s just now remembering what words are for.  His hands come up to Tony’s waist as if by muscle memory alone.

 

“You’re Snowflake, I prefer sweetheart, if we’re being honest,” Tony says, slipping closer and hugging James.  

 

James returns the hug, resting his forehead on Tony’s shoulder since he’s still on his knees.  

 

“Here’s your blanket!” Scott says, coming back from the ambulance.  

 

“Perfect,” Tony says, taking it from him.  James looks at Scott blankly.  Tony wraps the emergency blanket around James’ shoulders and then gets on his own knees, so he can tuck himself into James’ arms in a more normal position for them.  James responds right away by burying his nose against Tony’s scent gland and inhaling deeply.

 

“There you go, Tastee Freeze, I’m right here.”

 

James hugs him more tightly for a second, inhaling again.  

 

“Tony?” he says questioningly, like he doesn’t quite believe it’s him in his arms.  

 

“The one and only,” Tony answers, rubbing his hand up and down James’ back underneath the blanket.  

 

“Did I hurt anyone?” James asks, tears building in his voice.  

 

“Bad guys only,” Tony says right away, “You didn’t hurt anyone else, ok?  I saw the footage on the drive over from my meeting.”

 

James nods quickly, wanting to believe him.  He starts crying as Tony holds him, though it’s not anything out of control.  Tony maneuvers them so that James is sitting on the ground instead of kneeling, then climbs into his lap.  

 

They’re still in that position when Spiderman gets back with the cheeseburgers, carrying a couple styrofoam containers tied up in a plastic bag, along with a drink carrier.  

 

“I don’t know when the last time you ate was, but I know you’re in definite need of some serious comfort, Snowflake, and there’s few things better for that with a super soldier than comfort _food_ ,” Tony says.  

 

“You’re doing a good job all on your own,” James says, not lifting his head yet.  

 

“Consider this a prop,” Tony tells him.  

 

James kisses the side of his neck, but he doesn’t make any move to reach for the food or to eat.  

 

“You know what?  You’re absolutely right, a change of scenery is in order,” Tony says, “If we go back to the limo, we can listen to some of that horrific European synth-pop you love while we eat.”

 

“I thought you told Happy it was banned from any of your car’s speakers,” James says, a gruff yet teasing edge to his words.  

 

“Well, as an omega, it’s my prerogative to change my mind.  What do you say?  Think you can make it that far?  It’s only 50 yards or so…”

 

“What are my options?” James asks, feeling a little better but still keeping his face tucked against Tony’s neck.

 

“As far as getting to the limo?” Tony asks, able to tell that James is back with them fully now, even if he’s probably still reeling from the episode.  “Well, if you were feeling a need to exert some burly alpha-ness, you could carry me, or we could both walk over under our own power.  Or if walking isn’t a thing that’s going to be happening, I could have the Spiderling carry _you…_ ” Tony suggests.

 

James smiles against his neck.  “As tempting as that is, sweetheart, I think I can walk myself.”

 

“No problem, Spiderman can just hold onto your burger for us until we get there, then,” Tony says, motioning for Peter to give them some space.  Slowly, they stand, with Tony sticking close to James the entire time.  James pulls him in to his side, so the blanket is over both of them, wrapping an arm over Tony’s shoulders even though he’s not putting any weight on him.  

 

As they’re heading to the limo, Steve calls out, “Are you ok, Buck?  James?...”

 

James is just so _done_ dealing with everything right now that he doesn’t take the time to calculate his response, doesn’t weigh reactions or consider his audience, he just answers truthfully, “I don’t know.”  

 

“James?” Steve says again, taking a step toward them, because being that open with his emotions in public is rare for the man.  

 

“Hope?” James says, angling himself and Tony toward her, which coincidentally puts him in between Steve and Tony.

 

“Yes?” she asks, her eyes flicking between them and Steve off to the side, who freezes when James turns away from him.  

 

Spiderman subtly maneuvers himself between Steve and the couple as well, looking like he’s just trailing behind them with the food.

 

“I want to take a leave of absence,” James says, no vacillation in his tone, just weariness.  

 

Hope gives him a kind, yet sad, smile.  “You know if I have to mark you down as ‘unfit’ for duty, there’s a lot more hoops to jump through when you come back,” she reminds him.  

 

“That’s fine.  It’s the truth, and it works like that for a reason.  Honestly…” James pauses, looking at the ground for a moment.  Tony gives him a squeeze from where his arm is wrapped around his waist under the blanket.  “Honestly, I’m not sure if I’ll want to come back any time soon.”

 

“You shouldn’t make any permanent life altering decisions right after an episode like that,” Tony points out, “In fact, the Council wouldn’t allow it anyway.  You’ll have to give them a statement in-person after completing treatment anyway.”

 

“Yeah, that sounds reasonable…” James nods.  Hope nods along with him.

 

“Well, let us know if you need anything, James,” she says.  

 

“Yeah, get well soon, man,” Scott adds from the side.

 

“We’ll keep you posted.  Hopefully he’s well enough for your weekly Wii tournament next week, I know he looks forward to those.  Keeping up a routine is important,” Tony says, giving James another squeeze.

 

Scott beams.  Hope gives Tony an approving nod, appreciating his reinforcement of their place in James’ circle even if he’s not on the team.  

 

“Alright, we’ll see you around then…   _Eddie…"_ Hope says, tilting her head to the side to make the word a question to confirm her assumption.  

 

Tony grins at her and nods.

 

“Alright, alright, my food’s getting cold,” James says gruffly, pulling Tony in closer to his side for a moment and kissing his temple.  

 

“I would be a horrible boyfriend to subject you to cold fries, it’s true,” Tony agrees.  “Come on, let’s get you to the limo, Winter Wonderland.”

 

As they approach said limo, the door opens and Pepper steps out of it, dressed in an alpha-eating corporate suit.  “I’ll ride the rest of the way up front with Happy,” she says knowingly.  Happy jumps out of the driver’s seat to open the door of the passenger’s side for her.  

 

“You are an absolute gem, Pep, a goddess among omegas,” Tony tells her.  

 

“I’m aware,” she says with a smile before she slides into the front seat.  

 

“I’ll just swing my way back to the hotel,” Spiderman says, handing over the food once James and Tony are seated.  

 

“Thanks, kid,” Tony says, accepting it and the drink carrier through the open door.  

 

“You get extra pickles?” James asks, keeping the blanket over his shoulders even as he buckles in.  

 

“Of course.  And I’ll even still kiss you afterward, since I’m feeling generous,” Tony says as the door is closing.  

 

Once they’re in the quiet of the car, finally alone, Tony takes James’ hand and gives it a squeeze.  “I think that went well, as far as big reveals go.”

 

James snorts.  “You know, I think I’m just about ready for my life to start being a romcom instead of a horror flick...”

 

Tony pops open the styrofoam containers and starts handing out food as he says sedately, “I’m with you on that one.”

 

James starts eating mechanically as they drive away, letting Tony feed him extra fries in between bites of burger.  

 

Outside, Sam gives a very heartfelt, “What the fuck,” as the limo pulls away.

 

“Actually, that explains a lot,” Hope says.

 

“You expect us to believe that _you didn’t_ know, but _Scott did_ _?”_ Steve says, looking dumbfounded by the whole situation.

 

“Hey!”

 

Hope gives Scott a look.

 

“Ok, yeah, actually, that’s fair,” Scott concedes.   _“_ _But_ _,_ I’ve spent way more time with James than Hope has, so it’s not completely unbelievable that I would have figured it out.”

 

“Figured it out?  You mean James didn’t tell you either?” Spiderman asks, still having hung around the edge of the group to make sure there wasn’t going to be any trouble.  

 

“Well…  I mean, he told me ‘Eddie’ wasn’t his omega’s real name, and that Hope and I had met him before, but they were keeping things quiet because of their jobs,” Scott explains.  

 

“So how did you figure it out, then?” Hope wants to know.  

 

“Oh.  By his scent.  I happened to get close enough to smell him one time at the UN, and I recognized it as being the same scent at James’ apartment.  And you know, _Eddie_ , Anthony _Edward_ Stark…” Scott shrugs.  

 

“What were you doing that you had that close of an interaction with Tony?” Steve wants to know, frowning.  

 

Hope raises an eyebrow when Scott looks to her for guidance.  There hasn’t been anything on the schedule that would have had them interacting.  Plus, it’s a well known fact that Tony avoids their team like the plague.

 

“So, um, let me just preface this by saying that I’m not,” Scott says, holding up his hands defensively, “But, uh, I was kind of afraid I was pregnant?  And Tony found me throwing up in the bathrooms at the UN, and showed me where the omega clinic was?” he says hesitantly, because since he _hadn’t_ been pregnant, he’d never said anything about it to Hope.  

 

Hope’s face softens.  She doesn’t admonish him, just holds an arm out for him to tuck himself under.  Scott goes willingly, accepting the half hug with a relieved smile.

 

“Yeah, I can see that.  Tony’s always had a strong pack instinct.  He’s always taken people in even when they’ve done nothing to deserve it,” Spiderman says, turning to look at the rest of the team toward the end of his statement.  

 

“Actually, I think it was more because I smelled like James than anything else,” Scott adds.  “Oh, was _that_ why you thought he was making a move on me?” he suddenly realizes, asking Hope.  

 

“We’ll talk when we get home,” Hope says fondly, rolling her eyes.  

 

They disperse after that, and since nobody does anything stupid, Spiderman swings his way back to the hotel as planned.

  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

James opts to go back to the psychiatrist he had in Wakanda rather than keep using the UN provided one.  They have virtual reality sessions to overcome the distance involved, but it works.  He’s doing a lot better after a month or so, with the doctor even advising him that he shouldn’t worry about putting off life-changing decisions anymore.  

 

“Hey, Snowflake, what’s up?” Tony says when he answers James’ call.  

 

“I just requested a meeting with the council, to hand in my resignation,” James tells him, “I’m quitting my job to focus on modeling.”  

 

That earns him a laugh.  

 

“Well if the modeling career doesn’t pan out, I know a few rich omegas who would love to have a hot alpha pool boy,” Tony tells him.  

 

“Yeah?  Maybe you should give me their names now, so I have them just in case,” James teases back.

 

<//>

 

The council accepts his resignation with aplomb, thanking him for his service.  They’ll only contact him if there’s a world-ending threat after this.  James thanks them for their understanding.  

 

<//>

 

James takes a contract to model the fall line for Hugo Boss.  

 

<//>  

 

“Is there a reason we’re not living together?” Tony asks him one night as they’re cuddling naked in bed.  

 

“Because you haven’t asked?” James says, raising an eyebrow.  

 

“Fair enough.  Move in with me?” Tony says right away, biting his bottom lip afterward.  

 

“Only if it’s what you really want, not because you think it’s where we ‘should be’ at by this point or something,” James says, running a soothing circuit up and down Tony’s back.

 

“I do want it.  I want to see your clothes hanging next to mine in the closet.  I want to come home to you after board meetings and have you come home to me after a photo shoot.  I want to argue with you about the pronunciation of french words everyday,” Tony says with a spark in his eyes and a quirk on his lips.

 

“I still say it’s more fun if you pronounce it ‘quickie’ instead of quiche,” James says with a teasing rumble, a grin spreading over his face as he does.  

 

Tony laughs with him for a moment, letting James steal a few kisses at the same time.  

 

“I…  Uh…” Tony’s teasing attitude suddenly falls away, “I want even more than that, if we’re being honest…  But I’m kind of...scared?  Not of you!  Just…  Of turning out to be wrong again,” Tony gives him a shrug, his eyes gathering moisture as he waits to see what James thinks of that.  

 

James looks at him for a moment, intently, but not _intensely_ , and then pulls Tony’s chin up so they’re looking into each other’s eyes.  “I want that too…” he confesses, “But I know you’ve been hurt real bad before, sweetheart, and multiple times too.  It’s only natural to be afraid of fire when you’ve been burned.  That’s part of why I don’t want to push you.  I want you to come to me when you’re ready, ok?” James assures him.  

 

Tony nods, his tears spilling over just briefly.  “But what if I want more than you do?” he asks, his voice small.  

 

“Impossible,” James tells him, kissing away the moisture that dared to escape, “I want to give you _everything_ , Tony.  Whatever area you want to move forward in, you just tell me.  And if you ever need to take a step back, you tell me that too.  Whenever you want, I’ll be here.  I’m in this for the long haul,” James says, holding him close.   

 

“Even if I did want to bond someday?...”

 

“Tony, I would love to be able to feel you,” James says, hugging him tight, “And I’d love to be able to show you how happy you make me.  Anytime.  When you’re ready, you just say the word, ok?”

 

Tony nods against him, holding onto James just as tightly.  

 

“Ok.  I will.”

 

<//>

 

Tony spends his sixtieth birthday unconscious, having taken one too many hits during an intense battle the night before.  James waits sleeplessly at his side.  Or rather, he tries to.  He must nod off at some point though, exhausted from the stress of the past few days, because he wakes up to Tony squeezing his hand.  

 

“Mate with me,” Tony says before James can get a single word out, his voice rough from disuse.

 

James squeezes his hand back, trying not to cry.  “Yeah?” he says, smiling as he reaches to get Tony some water.  

 

“Yeah.  I want to.  And I don’t want to miss our shot,” Tony says, accepting the cup and straw.  

 

“We should wait a few days,” James adds, “Since it’s probably not a good idea for you to lose anymore blood right now.”

 

“Ugh, now you sound like Rhodey.”

 

“Rhodey is like 90% of your impulse control,” James chuckles, his smile turning fond.  

 

“True.  I guess I can’t argue with that...” Tony sighs, as if accepting his fate.  

 

James stands up and kisses him, mindful of his IV’s and the bandage on his head.  

 

“Ok, dream wedding.  Go.  Lay it on me,” Tony says, settling back against his pillows for the long haul.  

 

James doesn’t even hesitate.  

 

“Red and gold everything.  The flowers, the place settings, the invitations, _everything_.  And you meet me at the altar in your suit, flying in and landing across from me.  Only you’ve painted it _white_ and gold to match my tux,” James says, rubbing his thumb over the back of Tony’s hand.  

 

Tony may be getting a little choked up at the description.  “I meant _your_ dream wedding, Snowflake.”  

 

“That is my dream wedding,” James assures him, meeting Tony’s gaze steadily, “Warm, rich colors, all our friends and family there, I don’t have to wait around at the altar long because your suit is fast, and then you’re there at my side for the rest of it.”

 

“For the rest of our lives,” Tony adds, squeezing James’ hand.  

 

“Sounds perfect, doesn’t it?” James prompts.

 

“Yeah...  Ok.  Give me a week,” Tony says, grinning at him.

 

“A week?” James laughs, kissing the back of Tony’s hand and then pressing it against his cheek, “People _might_ already have plans, Tony.”

 

“They’ll clear their schedules for us,” Tony assures him.

 

“They’ll clear their schedules for _you_ ,” James corrects, shaking his head at Tony’s audacity and loving every moment of it.  

 

“That’s about to be the same thing,” Tony points out, smiling smugly now that they’ve decided to take this step.  

 

“You don’t want to wait for the wedding to mate then?” James asks.

 

“Jamie, Tastee Freeze, Snowflake, my own personal Winter Wonderland, when have I _ever_ done _anything_ the traditional way?” Tony asks back.  

 

“Point,” James concedes readily.  

 

“Mate now, marry later,” Tony says, excessively casually, “And then on our honeymoon, maybe we can spend it, I don’t know, bonding or something…” he adds, glancing at James out of the corner of his eye.  

 

James face lights up even more than it already was.

 

“I told you, Tony, whatever you want.”

 

<//>

 

That night, since Tony is still recovering and forbidden by his doctors from doing anything as strenuous as _mating_ , James makes a quick trip out to California.  

 

He wants to tie up some loose ends.  

 

Tony wishes him good luck.

 

Steve looks shocked to see James when he opens his door.  And rightly so at this point.  His lips press together as he starts to speak, entirely the wrong shape for the name James has been correcting him to use for over a decade now.

 

“If you call me ‘Bucky’ even one more time, I’m gonna sock you in the fucking face,” James tells him, making sure to set the proper tone for this interaction.  

 

Steve nods, opening the door the rest of the way.  “Did you want to come in, James?”

 

“Not particularly,” James says, being honest.  “I…  I don’t like the person that you are now, Steve.  You have a right to your opinions, it’s a free country and all...but I have a right to mine too.  And ours just don’t mesh anymore.  Maybe they did a hundred years ago, but we were both different people back then.”

 

“So why are you here then?” Steve asks, “I’ve been trying to give you your space, but you’re the one who showed up at _my_ door...”

 

“I’m here because I want to get it all out in the open, clear the air,” James says, waving a hand between them, “I want you to understand that unless something changes, we aren’t going to be friends at all anymore after this.”  

 

“James,” Steve says, looking at him sadly, “I’ve known since the moment it came out that you were dating Tony, that you’d choose him over us.  Over me.”

 

“First off, you’d already driven a wedge between us years before that, Steve.  There was a reason I stayed in Wakanda when you went back to the States, and you know it.  Secondly, it wasn’t inevitable that I’d have to make a choice between the two of you.  You could have just, _not_ been an asshole, and then we could have stayed friends throughout all of this.  That has nothing to do with Tony,” James tells him.

 

“Right,” Steve says flatly, like he doesn’t believe him.  Or doesn’t believe that James knows what he’s talking about.  

 

It’s exactly the kind of implication that gets James’ hackles up, because it makes it obvious that Steve doesn’t think he’s capable of seeing things clearly, and by extension, making his own decisions.  

 

“Jesus, could you just not pretend like you know what’s best for everyone in every goddamned situation for once?” James raises his voice a little, “You don’t even have all the facts, yet you’re acting like I’m some kind of idiot for the decisions I’ve made.”

 

“Really, James?  It’s _Tony_.  After everything that happened, you really think that he’d be legitimately interested in you?  After all the fighting and the blame and the vendettas?” Steve fires back.

 

“Tony had a vendetta against me for a whole twenty minutes,” James says, lowering his voice and trying his best to remain calm, “And then once the _grief_ and the _rage_ had passed, he did realize it wasn’t my fault...and that I wasn’t the one that had really hurt him.”  

 

“...You know we’ve been over this a million times, James.  I don’t regret doing what I had to to save you,” Steve says, “ _I won’t_.”

 

“But that doesn’t mean that you _shouldn’t,_ Steve.  Because when you’re a decent human being, you always regret hurting people, no matter what,” James says, tears forming in his voice because of how much Steve just _doesn’t get it_.

 

There’s a moment of silence between them.  

 

“In about a week or so, give or take some recovery time, I’m marrying my soulmate,” James says evenly, putting up every wall he can think of around his emotions, “And you’re not invited, Steve.  That means exactly what you think it means,” he says, meeting Steve’s eyes levelly.

 

Steve’s eyes widen a little at the word soulmate, but he doesn’t interrupt.  

 

Before the man can think of a response to that, James turns around and walks away.  

 

Steve doesn’t follow him.  

 

James doesn’t feel the need to wonder what the lack of action means for Steve’s potential comprehension anymore, which is freeing in and of itself.  He didn’t survive 70 years of torture and brainwashing just to have to deal with someone wanting to “helpfully” control his life at every turn.  He’s just, _done_.

 

<//>  

 

Tony asks him how it went.  

 

James crawls into his hospital bed with him as the sun is rising and says, “Just like I expected.”

 

<//>  

 

The doctors don’t give Tony a clean bill of health for an entire week, which he spends grumbling about it constantly.  James points out that it gives them more time to plan the wedding though.  On day two, Tony gets a call from Pepper, demanding to know why she needs to find room to store a thousand place settings of blood red china at SI headquarters.  

 

“Oh, uh, oops?  I may have forgotten to call you about James and I getting married as soon as possible?” he explains with a wince.  

 

There’s silence on the other end of the line.  

 

James can just picture Pepper stopping and closing her eyes, and taking a slow, calming breath before answering him.  

 

“Who’s doing the invitations?”

 

“We’re going electronic.  James and I already designed them, but I was starting to get hives at the thought of _printing and mailing_ , plus, come on, it’s _me_ , if there’s anyone who’s going to lead an electronic wedding invitation revolution, it’s me, Pep.  This is happening as soon as I can get the details worked out.  We’ll use the banquet hall at the tower, we’ve already got plenty of tables and chairs and stuff, we just need to get all the decorative crap in and then we’ll be ready,” Tony tells her.  

 

“Tony, you cannot send out your wedding invitations by _email_ ,” Pepper admonishes him.  

 

“What?  No, not email, _electronic_.  Everyone’s getting a holocube delivered that will project a three dimensional graphic of the wedding invitation in the air,” Tony explains.

 

“ …  Flowers?” Pepper asks.  

 

“Virtual displays that will move and grow right in front of the guests’ eyes.”

 

“Who’s going to officiate?”

 

“I’ve already got a guy lined up,” Tony assures her.  He throws a wink at James, who smiles back.

 

“What about food?  You can’t just call in an order to Giovanni’s the night before for a thousand people…”

 

“Um…  Virtual displays of food?...” Tony tries.

 

“Tony!”

 

“I know, I know, that’s one of the things I’m still working on, and why the invitations don’t have a date on them yet.  Plus, James is more of a pie person, so I’m trying to get the world record holder for largest pie to fly out for the occasion.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t need my help?” she asks with a sigh.  

 

“What?  Of course I need your help!” Tony exclaims, “I’m drowning in supply and demand bullshit right now.”

 

“But you didn’t ask me?” Pepper says, as if reminding him.  

 

Tony looks down at the list FRIDAY is projecting on his lap.  

 

“Damn it, I knew that was at the top for a reason…  Sorry?  I was talking with James about the pie thing, and so I thought, hey, that’s a call I should probably make myself, for the star power, you know, and then we got distracted, and I forgot that I should never be in charge of anything ever…” Tony says, “So, please, help me Pep?  Pretty please with sugar on top?  I’ll buy you a yacht…”

 

“I don’t want a yacht Tony.  I want full control over the bridesmaids’ dresses, since I will presumably be one,” she bargains.  

 

“Bridesmaids, shit, I knew there was something else I was forgetting…  Deal.  Done deal.  You are an absolute lifesaver, Pep,” Tony sighs.

 

James chuckles.  “As long as they’re red and gold,” he pipes up, “Those are my colors,” he adds, to make sure she knows that was his choice too.

 

Tony beams at him while Pepper sighs over the phone.  “Alright, fair enough. It’s not I like I was honestly expecting anything different...”

 

<//>  

 

The _moment_ after Tony is cleared by the doctors, he drags James with him to their bedroom.  

 

“Ok, don’t say anything to the medical staff, but I’m actually not feeling up to an overly athletic round of sex,” he confesses, “But we’re not waiting even another _second_ to mate.”

 

James kisses him softly, cupping Tony’s cheek and running gentle fingers along the missing edge of his hairline, where the surgeons had to shave the hair away.  “I agree,” he says.  “How about this…  I’ll strip you down, suck on that beautiful cock of yours until you come, and then I’ll finger you nice and slow and deep while I bite you,” he purrs in Tony’s ear, “Then once you’ve got the mark of my teeth on you, I’ll stroke myself off, come all over you so you’ll smell like me for days…”

 

“I like that plan.  That is an _excellent_ idea,” Tony says, melting against him.  

 

James keeps his word, making sure Tony is lost to a haze of pleasure when he bites, to lessen the pain of the wound.  He knows omega’s glands are made to scar, so he doesn’t go overboard and try to rip a chunk of flesh out or anything, like some alphas do.  There’s definitely blood, but James presses a patch of gauze against it right away, since Tony still doesn’t need to lose any more blood than necessary, even though he’s going to live.  

 

Then James jerks himself off all over Tony’s chest, taking a great deal of pride in the sight of his omega blissed out, bitten, and covered in come.  

 

“Jesus, I forgot about the sheer quantity of this stuff that you guys produce,” Tony says after they’re done, “Usually you’re wearing a condom…”  He squirms a little as the come starts cooling on him.

 

“It’s ok, sweetheart, I’ve got the mental image stored, we can get you cleaned up now,” James says, tapping the side of his head as he looks at Tony’s body with a self-satisfied grin.

 

“Honestly tissues are probably a lost cause, you should just carry me to the bathroom,” Tony says, holding his arms out.  

 

“Thanks for indulging me, babe,” James says, giving Tony a peck on the lips as he maneuvers around to be able to pick him up.  He stops to take a whiff of their new combined scent on Tony’s neck, which makes the omega preen.  Even in the shower, they both keep scenting each other over and over, getting used to their new smell.  

 

While they’re drying off, Tony examines the bite in the mirror.

 

“Good job, Tastee Freeze, you got it perfectly centered.  This is like, a textbook bite.  You only see this kind of thing in the movies,” he says, poking at it.  

 

James kisses the bite gently and says, “It’s about time my aim came in handy for something useful.”

 

<//>

 

“What’s that?” James asks, seeing Tony skimming an official looking document with a frown.  

 

“I’ve been summoned to appear before the Accords Council.”

 

<//>

 

When Tony steps into the meeting hall, he realizes this is a full Accords session, not just the sitting members of the superhero supervisory committee.  Every member of the U.N., as well as the leader of each superhero team, is present.  A normal person would definitely be feeling a little blindsided, but he takes it in stride.  

 

Besides, Rhodey would have told him if something _bad_ was coming down the pipeline...

 

“I always knew I was popular,” Tony says with a grin, glancing around, “But this is quite the turn out…  Are you guys giving away free Avengers stickers at the end of this meeting or something?” he jokes, garnering laughter from most of the room.  

 

That’s promising.  Hopefully the plot against him isn’t too malicious then…

 

“Dr. Stark, thank you for coming today.  And no, there will not be any free stickers given out,” the representative from Japan, Mr. Matsuoka, says.  

 

Thor makes a disappointed “Aww…” noise in the background.  

 

“That’s alright buddy, I’ll hook you up later,” Tony says, giving him a wink over the top of his sunglasses.  

 

“I’m sure you’re wondering why the Council summoned you here today, Dr. Stark,” Mr. Matsuoka addresses him again.  He must be the person they elected to run this session, even though there’s no “leader” of the U.N.

 

“Eh, sort of?  I figured you’d get around to it on your own time,” Tony says, unaffected.  

 

“First off, let me express to you on behalf of the entire Council, and U.N., our joy at your recovery from your latest injury,” he says, by all accounts sincere.  

 

Tony blinks for a second, then says, “Thank you.”

 

“It is in light of this recent grave injury that you suffered, that the Council felt the need to bring a lingering issue surrounding your active duty on a team to vote.”

 

Tony’s spine stiffens.  

 

“Now, the Council does not have the power to force an existing member of a team to retire, not without there being severe disciplinary issues, but it was the Council’s unanimous decision that we approach you and ask you to retire voluntarily, on your own.”

 

Tony is so immediately, incandescently _pissed_ , that the Council can probably smell it from their seats.

 

“The world _needs_ you, Dr. Stark,” Mr. Matsuoka says, which throws the entire rant Tony was about to give them for a loop.  

 

“...  I, … I’m kind of getting mixed signals, here,” Tony says, frowning.

 

“Ironman was a unique and unprecedented answer to the problems of the time when you created it,” Mr. Matsuoka explains, “A one man army built by the world’s foremost technological genius, it was an elegant solution to the need the world had, and the lack of trustworthiness in the world at the time.  But the world is different now, Dr. Stark.  There are plenty of other superheros out there to share the load, to operate on a brute force level when needed.  You don’t need to personally take the hits anymore.  The world is in a place where it can survive without Ironman now...but not without Tony Stark.”  

 

“You’re not angling for control of the suit?” Tony says, dumbfounded and almost insulted, even though technically he was just complimented…

 

“Well, if you wanted to finally _officially_ name Mr. Keener as Ironman’s predecessor, the Council certainly wouldn’t stop you,” Mr. Matsuoka says, eliciting a chuckle from the crowd.  “But it’s as I said.  If you retired and took Ironman with you, the world could get by, as long as Tony Stark remained to invent and build and create.”

 

Tony takes a moment to absorb his words, not wanting to get offended where no offence is meant, but wanting to make sure he isn’t having a cleverly worded fast one pulled on him either.  “There are plenty of other people in the world who are just as smart as I am, if not smarter.”

 

“A few.  But they are not Tony Stark.  They haven’t been running billion dollar charities and giving away the means for clean water and electricity to impoverished countries for decades.  The only other genius in the world who even comes close to the level of philanthropy you uphold is Princess Shuri.  And she does not fly around in a tin can battling evil.”

 

“Am I being given an ultimatum here?” Tony asks, slightly embarrassed at the praise, but staying focused.  

 

“No.  This is simply the Council’s polite suggestion.  If you feel the need to continue to fight on the front lines, that is your choice.  We just wanted to make our concerns known.  If you were to be killed in the line of duty, Dr. Stark, it would be a blow to the entire world.”

 

“So what I’m hearing here, is that you want me to retire to my workshop, keep inventing and giving shit away, because humanity won’t move forward as well without me?” Tony asks as if looking for clarification.  He doesn’t give them time to answer though, before he says, “Yeah, ok.  Actually that sounds pretty good. Maybe it is time to let someone else play meat-shield now,” he answers himself, rubbing a hand over the shaved spot on his head.  

 

“Are you sure, Dr. Stark?” Mr. Matsuoka asks, looking for an official statement.  

 

Tony looks back up at the seated Council, at the gathered representatives of every country on the planet, and realizes that he already decided a long time ago not to fight the will of the whole world.  That it happens to be for his own good this time shouldn’t change that.

 

“You know what?  Yeah.  Yes.  Consider this my official retirement then.  Fuck it.  I’ve already got a cabana boy lined up anyway,” Tony says, smiling.  

 

King T’Challa chokes trying to hide his laughter.  

 

Tony throws a grin in the King’s direction.  “Don’t take off after this little meet and greet adjourns, your Majesty, I’ve got invitations to my wedding for you guys,” he says, pointing finger guns at him and causing a bigger stir with those words than the ones where he agreed to retire.  

 

But he wouldn’t be Tony Stark if it was otherwise.  

 

<//>

 

“No, that’s not a typo.  It’s a week from Thursday, and yes, Thor will be officiating.  In lieu of presents, please make a donation to the Maria Stark Foundation.”

 

“There’s no RSVP?”  

 

“Hey, either come or don’t, this wedding’s happening whether you’re there or not.  Any food we have left over afterward we’re giving away to the homeless, so it’s all good.”

 

<//>  

 

James waits at the altar, a sea of red and gold before him, the Norse God of Thunder behind him, and his omega flying through the air toward him.  

 

Tony lands in his classic pose, the white and gold of his armor patterned to look like a tux as he stands.  

 

James doesn’t have to bend down to kiss him at all, like this.  He’s pretty sure part of Thor’s blessing was in actual Norse, but whatever.  All he cares about is that he and Tony are finally getting their happily ever after.  

 

On their wedding night, Tony has James lay down on his back, so Tony can plaster himself over his alpha’s chest.  He brackets James’ head with his forearms, peering into his eyes as he says, “I’m not afraid anymore.”

 

The bond, probably due to their soulmate status, has always hovered right below the surface, waiting, just needing the tiniest little push to snap into place.  If James’ biology hadn’t been messed with, it probably would have formed without them trying when they first met, just like in the fairy tales.

 

But James has to admit, as he feels Tony’s love and _wanting_ of this come through for the first time, that getting to have chosen it for themselves is way better.  

 

“Holy shit, you really do love me, don’t you?” Tony says, trying to choke back his tears at finally being able to feel James’ emotions.  

 

“Yeah, sweetheart, I really do.”  

 

<//>  

 

A month after James and Tony’s wedding, Steve gets another unexpected knock at his door.  

 

It’s not James this time though.

 

Tony waltzes in, not waiting to be asked, making Steve back up or be run into in his own apartment.  He gives way mostly out of shock, which is totally part of Tony’s plan.

 

“I get it, you know, I really do,” Tony says, no preamble, “Going up against everything and everyone for James.  I totally understand not caring about the rest of the world and being willing to throw away every other relationship in your life for him, now.  Because that’s exactly what I felt in the haze of our bonding.”

 

Tony glances around Steve’s living room as he talks, obviously _judging_ the decor.

 

“But it kind of makes me wonder, what was your excuse?...” he asks, turning a quizzical look on Steve.

 

Steve is silent.  He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t owe Tony any more of an explanation than he’s already given him, but that doesn’t hold up very well, even in his own head.

 

“I thought so,” Tony nods.

 

“So are you just here to gloat because you won, or was there an actual purpose for your visit, Tony?” Steve asks, deflecting.  

 

“Oh, this isn’t gloating.  If I was gloating you’d be seeing a 20 foot tall add in Times Square right now.  If I was _gloating_ , this message would be being delivered to you via a prime time TV slot.  This isn’t gloating, this is closure.  Because yes, even though I did ‘win’, it is _not_ in the way you’re thinking.”

 

“You’ve got James, there really isn’t any other way to spin that,” Steve smiles at him, but it’s a cold, lifeless thing.

 

Tony shakes his head.  “James isn’t a prize to be won, Steve, and that attitude belies just one of the whole host of issues that made him cut ties with you.  But I will tell you why I _actually_ won though.  Even though it does _involve_ James, there’s a distinction to it that makes all the difference.  I won, because I overcame your bullshit and managed to let myself be happy again.  I won, because I didn’t let what you did to me _keep_ me down.  The fact that it’s James that I’m mated and bonded to actually has nothing to do with the ‘winning’ part of it,” Tony gestures to his own neck.  

 

He pauses for a second, looking Steve up and down.  

 

“But do I have to admit, it does make it just that much sweeter.  Ok, ok, maybe I’m gloating a little,” he admits as Steve’s face clouds over.  Tony holds his hands up as if to indicate he’ll back off now.

 

Steve still takes a step toward him, his fists balled in anger at his sides.  

 

Tony just looks at him calmly and coolly, tipping his chin up as he says, “Make a move, Patriot Games.”  

 

Steve deflates at the nickname, as if some small part of him does get the fact that _he_ made himself into the “bad guy” here.  But it’s a very very small part, and it’s too little too late.

 

Tony snaps his fingers and a second later, the Ironman suit comes in the door behind him carrying the Captain America shield.  

 

The suit drops it on the floor of Steve’s apartment unceremoniously.  

 

Steve just looks at it in shock, because Tony had continually been adamant and _legally backed_ in his refusal to give it back to him.  

 

“What are you doing?  Why?...”

 

“Think of this as the world’s most expensive consolation prize,” Tony says as he’s turning to leave, “And that feeling you’re feeling right now?  That’s exactly how much it wasn’t what _I_ wanted either.”  

 

Tony leaves Steve’s apartment after that and goes directly to James, who was watching the live feed from the suit through a monitor in the limo.  What he couldn’t see in the beginning he could definitely still hear, and that’s all that really matters.

 

“Are you alright?” he asks first thing when Tony gets in and plops down in his seat.   

 

“Hm?  Yeah, I’m fine.  That was actually real cathartic.  I’m more concerned with how you’re doing,” Tony tells him, watching James carefully.   

 

James stares at the ending shot of the feed, which shows Steve’s confused and slightly angry face as Tony walked out on him.  

 

“You know, I bought into Erskine’s theory for a long time after they told me about it, ‘good becomes great’ and all that...  But in Wakanda I learned a different saying about men being given super powers,” James sighs, rubbing his face.

 

“And what was that?” Tony prompts him.  

 

James turns off the monitor and goes over to sit in the seat beside Tony, so Happy can get going already.  

 

“Corrupt a man’s heart with a gift, that’s how you find out who you’re dealing with.”

  
  
  


 

THE END

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think I didn’t write this entire fic to be able to use that “All The Stars” lyric, you’re dead wrong :)

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who's back on their bullshit :)


End file.
